Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-11-23
"A WINTER LILY"
A Thanksgiving Story.
Thanksgiving eve!

stars, like sparks or lame.
In small, neat room on the uppermost
floor of six story tenement, a pale, DE-
tite, young lady stood at the one window
thoughtfuIly watching the motion and
glitter in the street below.
On couch on the othor side of the
apartment lay a weak-taced woman evil
IDENTIFY i'll, or. what's worse, thought her
self SO. And in truth, Mrs. Maria CARL
was one of those dependent, clinging,
unambitious creatures, whom the world
pltlcs sometimes, and despises always
She had been reared in the unenviable
grade OF society known as ''genteel pov-
erty'-that peculiar, superficial class
whose heads aud hearts are as empty as
their stomachs, and whose gildcd idleness
is poorly suggestive of ''Solomon's lilles,'
inasmuch as neither one nor the other
tolls nor spins At twenty she had sold
herself to a rich old husband, whose
childless widow she had been for years.
Mrs. CARL, who could not make her own
caps no more than she could earn them
and whoicould noHtell mortgage from
love letter, woke up one fatal morning
and found herself as poor as she had been
IN the days of her girlhood. She felt
that the only role of life left her was that
OF "interesting invalid in reduced cir
umstances,' and she assumed it accor-
dinghy.
ut was a crushing blow, my dear Mrs.
Grundy, assure you, and I shall never
recover from it-never,' she was wont to
say, pathctically, behind her handker-
chief OF worn and ancient lace.
On this Thanksgiving eve she awoke
from a prolonged slumber, and saw her
niece, Llnnie, standing, pale and pensive,
beside the window, blurred by the deli
cate frost-tracery of the carly night.
Have you made up your mind yet,
Llnnie?' She inquired, fretfully.
IL have not, aunty." faltered the
young girl, signing as she turned from
the window and paused before large,
glass vase, in which a magnificent Span
ish lily had just burst into bloom. For
Llnnle, those green rich leaves, and the
oder OF the creamy flower aroused the
memory of love swceter than lite and
enduring as mortality ITSELF
1t was on one delicious April morning
that Erie Warford brought her the young
bulb with its green leaf plants just break
ing Though the sand and water Of the
crystal jar, and babe her tend it carefully
IN memory of him. They were not quite
so poor as they were now. They had
pretty rooms, and she had plenty work
colorlng photographs in dingy preten-
sion Of studio, where she sang all day
long, and dreamed happy dreams of her
lover and her future when she should be
his wife.
1t was spring then, and the days were
long and warm, and she was satisfied
with life and all it nigh bring, despite
the peevish and eternal repinings of her
burdensome relative.
It was winter now, and the days were
brief and dark, with storm and trouble.
She had no work, and the last penny of
her earnings were gone. All her hand
some dresses and precious tr1nkets were
In the pawn-shop. The last coal was dy-
ing out in the crate, and the last crumbs
in the cupboard would not have fed s'the
one sparrow for whom God careth."
OF Erie Warford she had not heard
since the day on which he had brought
her the souvenir flower. He might be
untrue or he might be dead, or the
naughty eccentric old grandfather might
have cajolcd him into some loveless, Sell
fish marriage.
don't be uneasy about the future, lit"
tie one" Erie had said at parting. ssThe
old gentleman has never refused me any,
thing, and he will not oppose me serious
~ IN such momentOus matter as mar
riage. BetoreS this lily flowers you shall
be my wife, and he will be quite as proud
and fond you as he is indulgent to me-"
But that was very long ago; and as she
thought Of the inexpiicable absence and
silence Of MONTHS a big tear like dia-
mond lewdrop fell and flashed into the
heart. of the blossom.
She had another sutton nova wooe1
old and odd and rich and persistent.
you are sensible young woman, Miss
Linnle," he said one day, "and therefore,
think, not pleased with pretty speeches.
On Wlthered lips ardent love is a bur-
lesque; besides, our arlstocracy does not
believe in any emotion whatever. Pas
sion is ignored by the ton-a marriage of
affection is ridiculous"
Llnnle looked at him curiously.r Was
he satirical, diplomatic, or simply yer
bose9 What did the queer twinkle mean
in his jolly blue eyes2 He went on:
II need wife. Ihave chosen lady
who is young, good-looking, dutiful, and
would make my home pleasant. The day
she becomes my wife shall settle up
on her Internationally, one half my for
tune. What do you say, Linnie2'
"It" faltered the girl, pink from the
bands of her dark hair to the ruttle of
simple tulle that circled her pretty
throat.
II have chosen you, Miss Linnie," was
the business-ike rejoinder.
''You wish to buy me2" she inquired,
paling with sudden anger.
Mr.. Gilmour laughed in his jolly fash
on, being neither hurt nor offended.
sit is the mode nowadays for hearts to
be bought and sold. Is there one pure
and petfect love-marriage in a century, nv
girl! l should be kind to you always,
Linnle. In our case there should be no
pretty pathetic romance of the icicle
freezing the rose and all that sort of non
sense. Think it -thinksit over, child.
will speak to your aunt, and you can de-
clde-to-morrow evening, if not too soon.'
And the hour had come and her de-
cision was not made, and her aunt was
furious.
"You have not made up your mind
yet, you say?--and Mr.. Gilmour expect
ed an answer Immediately, I suppose
you mean to refuse him." quavered Mrs.
CARL, land l must go on living this sort
OF lite, starving and freezing, as long
as stay in this cold, ungrateful world,
which won't be long. After all I've
done for you, Linnle, how can you be so