The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1879-10-18

harp, and bend over it with the color on
his cheek, and an angry fire in his eye
when the eye fell askance on me. I saw
him lift her from her saddle at her gate
just down the street; and go in with her
and stay till, an hour afterward, groom
came and led the horse of. / saw him
lettering with her at the lane, but they
did not know | saw, and heard his mis-
cradle old grandfather come hobbling UP
our steps, rubbing his hands, and talking
to my father of PauPs lucky hit. And
so | knew that he had forsaken meme,
the child that had worshipped him from
the cradle. And meant to die as soon
as could; but in the meantime, if it
killed me it itself to hide it, they should
never know / cared. Yet I was not
angry; in some way, some strange
way, it was Paul who was angry,
who would not speak to me, would
not glance at me, would not come
near me, said sharp and bitter,
almost insolent, things in my presence,
and seeming to try to hurt me all he
could. 1t was not, in his manner, as il
he had found some one still dearer to
him than /, but as if he hated me,
thought, for just existing now. All,
well, it broke my hearti And / gather
ed those roses that morning / remem-
bered that we had been going to make
grandmamma's pot-pourri together.
| But l gathered them with nv back
turned to that garden across that high
box hedge, and the dew OF those roses
was salt. John, the old house-servant
| Che has been gone this many a year,,
L
the same jar, Rosamond. 1t has never
had a nick. | wonder if you can say as
much for it after half a century, John
left it, with the spice boxes and dish
of salt, on the marble step, to be handy
for me, and l began to shred the roses
into it. And as l scattered the velvet
petals, it swept over me in surge that
just SO the days of my life had gone,
and l too was withered flower; and as
| knelt before the jar, all at once my
arms fell across it, and my head fell
between them, and was crying such a
storm OF sobs that wonder no one heard
me. But some one did near. Directly
shadow fell between me and the sun
shine, and a voise made my heart stand
still, and my sobs cease.
What does it meanT' cried Paul.
81 demand to know. l will have no
more of this. What are you unhappy
aboutl Because you abused me, because
you have outraged all my feelings, be-
cause you have refused to answer my
letter.
" What-what letter. l stammered,
throwing back my head with the tears
streaming over my face.
What letter. he cried. Are you
playing with me still? Have you re-
ceived no letter from memo letter that
| gave John? Do you pretend to say
81 pretend to say nothing [ re-
turned, in storm of irrepressible tears,
springing to my feet and starting to run
away and hide my face away out of sight,
and pray that every fresh food of tears
might drown my very being pretend
to say nothing but that you have broken
my hearth
"But he hao caught me, and he held
me by the arm, and would not let me
hide my face.
! GO have broken your hearth he said,
in such grave and tender voice. Il
have not broken your spirit. Tell me
why you spurned my letter.
"'I-I never had your letter. I Sob
bed.
"' Never had letter telling you
telling you all you knew without it, but
assuring you that grandfather or no
grandfather, only you should be my
wife; and if not you, then no one2 It
is mislaid then and we have had all this
misery for nothing-we who worship
each other
"And-and-well. never mind about
the rest. There was nobody to see us
two young creatures standing in the
garden as the first young lovers did. l
don't know that We should have cared
if there had been. And all in breath,
as if the earth had rolled round under a
new heaven, the sun seemed tC be shin
ing as it never shone before, the birds to
be singing, flowers were full of life and
fragrance, the world was the most beauti-
full place. and we were on our knees
shredding roses together with the old
pot-pourri jar, and the garden ringing
with our laughter. And every once in
while Paul was lifting my chin with
his finger to make me look him in the
face with my eyes that all at once dared
not, and saying my mouth was the sweet
est rose of them allah, yes, you did,
Paul-and then he was plunging his
hand into the jar to stir the petals.
And suddenly his fingers were touching
no heap of rose leaves, and he was
bringing up paper, letter-that very
letter which he had given John just as
the old fellow was coming in from
emptying the jar from last years leaves
and spices; and he had dropped it there
and forgotten it. John is so forgetful
i mean, of course, he was. All me !
what day that was We trod on air,
we walked in the mid-heavens. Have
you gone sound asleep. PAUL. To be
sure. And Rosamond if you want the
other rule for pot-pourri-the English,
you know, call it hotch-potch-Ah, what
music that is!' and she paused to listen.
go Gather We rose-buds as We may,
Old Time is still a-fying
And this same flower that smiles to-day
Tomorrow will be DYING"
window into the low light of the rising
moon, the rich strain of the tenor SEEM
ing to roll upon the dusk sweet as fra
GRANGE from flower.
Rosamond fingered to loosen her dress
from Miss Effingham's chair which de-
tanned it. Miss ,Effingham was crying
softly to herself. "Ah, see," she MUIR
INJURED, working the knobby fingers in
the lace mittens, and forgetting whose
contemporary she was" see how selfish
age is! She remembers all her own part
in it; she forgets mine. For l slso-it
is so long ago-I loved Paul"