Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1874-07-16
CLARA MARCHANT'S ROSES.

Z" On. dear, Mr. Hunt, how you startled
mer' said Miss Marchant, as she turned
around from the open window Of her
pretty sittingrOOm to greet gentleman
who was entering the door. See my
poor roses are all flying right and left"
| beg your pardon; let me help you,
said Mr. Hunt, stopping to collect the
lovely blossoms Of 4 climbing rose which
had just been gathered.
But they are all going up town TO
Lady Mcrriman's," explained Miss Mar
chant, to deck her rooms for the ball.
Oh, dear, | should like to 90 with them.
No, | should not! Stupid things balls
are; and yet, Mr.. Hunt, let me tell YOU
in confidence, [ feel terribly dull down
here"
Strange words to come from the lips Of
Miss Clara Marchant, the rich stockhoId-
er's daughter and sole heiress of the
beautiful house and grounds called Bar
ton Towers, which had lately been pur-
chased by Nr. Marchant Strange, but
true; she was dull. The routine to which
she had been accustomed for the last five
years Of ball and party, dinner and drive,
had been disturbed by the move from
London to the country, which had been
rendered necessary by her fathers fail
ing health.
Come, Mr.. Hunt" she said, gayly,
you tell us IN the pulpit not to be dis
contented with our lives, but to make the
best Of them; now, do tell me what I
ought to do. | have lived a quarter of a
century, and yet | have not found out
for myself | have only one duty-lOok-
ing after my father; but most part of the
day he prefers his valet to me, so | have
4 ir.f
myself unhappy"
Miss Marchant spoke lightly, but there
was an air Of truth about her words, and
Mr.. Hunt, the good clergyman, felt sorry
for her
| can't teach-children worry me; l
don't like dirty houses, and 7 never gave
away a tract in my life" continued Miss
Marchant; : so don't ask me to do any G
those things"
Let me help you to put UP those
flowers, said Mr. Hunt and for a few
minutes the two were busy LAYING
the beautiful roses in soft beds of cotton
wool
Pity they should wither in Lady Mer-
riman's hot rooms" said Clara Mar
chant. But, after all, it is better than
to leave them nOdding their heads off in
my garden, with no one to smell them or
admire them"
II quite agree with you" said Mr.
Hunt, laughing "And now may | have
one for my pains?"
And he chose a lovely nearly-blown
"Gloire Gle Diou."
oh, yes, but not that it is too widely
opened for your button-hOle. Here is
little beauty-take this" said Miss Mar
chant
II hold to my first choice, said Mr..
Hunt; +" il is not for my buttOn-hole but
for one Of my sick people"
Oh, sick!' said Clara Marchant, CON
sidering BY the way, l suppose in the
country they expect q certain amount Of
soup and kitchen physic from the great
house, don't they? Wei, you must tell
me, and | will speak to the house
keeper. ! am new to the work. she
added, smiling.
"Gou are very kind" said Mr. Hunt;
will come to you when such things are
needed. We're you going out? l was go
ing to ask your permission to cross the
strawberries to The lower woods; it will
save me half a mile"
/" viii come with you'll" said Miss Mar
chant
And the two set out on their walk
Mr.. Hunt stopped AT last at tiny
house by the roadside, outside the
grounds
Here I 40 in" he said. "Good-by"
No; You promised to come back and
advise me about the icrneries," said Miss
Marchant; " ! will sit on this lowwall and
wait for you. suppose you have some
sick old woman thcre?"
Mr. Hunt smiled and left her. When
T., ,,P l,,,
companied by a Young man-Quite young
but piteous to look upon, since he bore in
his face the sure SIGN of coming death.
Tt might be near, it might be far, but it
must come.
Miss Marchant Will excuse my asking
4 favor for YOU" said Mr.. Hunt, looking
from one to the other; +" but itWould be Il
great thing Tor my friend, Mr. Lawrence,
to have permission to rest in your shrub
berries this hot weather; he has to thank
you for the rose"
Oh, no" said Miss Marchant, hastily;
that is nothing. And, please, whenever
YOU like to, come in thCre-the garden too.
Gould you Get so far?
The yOungmanSm smiled and thanked her:
he feared he was but poor walker, but
liberty to enter her grounds would be Il
great boon.
He spoke so well that Clara turned to
Mr.. Hunt, as they parted, to ask his his
tory.
"Just a poor clerk out of Nillfeld, dy-
ing of consumption, said the clergyman
eve have many such here; the air is
considered good, and they send them out
to us-generally to die, though"
Gould not do something for him."
she continued; would better advice save
him?n
Nothing will save him." said Mr.
Hunt you could please him, though,
by now and then sending him few
flowers"
oh, thank you! indeed I willn' said
Miss Marchant heartily And fruit,
might l? Would he be veXed?"
/ am sure he would not. But sup
pose, some day, you look in on his
mother-a simple, Iady-like person, who
is devoted to him lit is too far for Mrs.
Hunt to walk, and the poor soul sadly
needs sympathy. Now for the fernery."
But Clara could not think Of her ferns;
the patient, suffering face of the con-
sumptiye man haunted her
She ordered a basket of the finest
strawberries to be gathered for him, and
went herself to the gardener to order a
beautiful bouquet for tomorrow.
Il shall make point of calling on
Mrs. Lawrence" she said, as Mr. Hunt
left.
There was no fear now that this poor
sufferer would need such sOlaCe as gay
flowers ripe fruits and kind sympathy
could furnish him. Clara Marchant was
cd f-:n or ITo%n TH-.oS