Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1879-11-01

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 itself to hide it, they should
never know / cared. Yet was not an
CRY; In some way, some strange way, 1t
was Paul who was angry, who would not
would mot come near me, said
sharp and bitter, almost in
solent. things in my presence,
and seeming to try to hurt me all he
could. 1t was not in his matter, as If
he had found some one still dearer to
him than /, but as if he hated me,
thought, for just existing now, All,
we'll, it broke my hearth AndI gathered
those roses that mOrningI remembered
that we had been going to make grand
mammals pot-pourris together. But l
gathered them with my back turned to
that garden across that high box hedge,
and the dew ION those roses was salt.
John, the old hOuse-servant Che has been
gone this many a year, came Alugging
out the big Chelsea jar-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 a dish;of salt, on the
marble step, to -be hannyifor me, and l
began to shred the roses into 1t. And
as scattered the velvet petals, it swept
over me in surge that justsO the days
of my life had gone, and 1 too, was a
withered flower; and knelt before the
jar, all at once my arms fell across it,
and my head fell between them, and
crying such storm of sObs that I WON
der no one heard me. But some one did
near. Directly shadow fell between
me and sunshine, and voice made my
heart stand still, and sobs cease
what does it mean?" cried Paul.
demand tO-knOw. i will have no more
OF this. What are you unhappy about?
Because you abused me, because you
have outraged all my feelings, because
yeu have refused to answer my let
ter"
"What-what letter." I stammered.
throwing back my head with the tears
streaming over my face. rfEFfl 4
"What letter." he cried. "Are you play
ing with me still? Have you received
no letter from memo letter that l gave
John? Do you pretend to say"
~ pretend to say nothing" returned,
In storm of irrepreSSable tears, spring
ing 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 had caught me, and he held
me by the arm, and would not let me
hide my face.
Il have broken your hearth" he said,
in such a grave and tender, voice. q 81
have not broken yonr spirit. Tell me
why you spurned my letter."
81 never had your letter." / sObbed.
"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 one. 1t is mis-
laid then; and we have had all this mis-
cry for nOthing-we who worship each
other"
-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. /
don't know that we should have cared if
there had been. And all in a breath, as
if the earth had rolled around under a
new heaven, the sun seemed to 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
beautiful place. and we were on our
knees shredding roses together with the
old pOt-pOurri jar, and the garden ring
ing with our laughter. And every once
i'm while Paul was lifting my chin
with his finger to make me look him lin
the face with my eyes that all at once
dared not, and saying my mouth was the
sweetest 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 touch
ing no heap of rose leaves, and he was
bringing up paper, a 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 dropped it there and
forgotten it. John is so fOrgetful-I
mean, of course, he was. All me! what
day that wasl We trOd ON air, we walk
ed 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- what music
that isp' and she pauses to listen.
''Gather We rose buds as We may,
Old Time is still flying:
And this same flower that smires to-day,
Tomorrow will be dying" =
sang Bertram, stepping through the
long window into the low light of the
rising moon, the rich strain of the tenor
seeming to roll upOu the dusk sweet as
fragrance upon a flower.
ROsamOnd fingered to loosen her dress
Miss Effingham's chair which detained
it. Miss Efingham was crying softly to
herself. "Ah, see," shemurmered, work
ing the knObby fingers in the lace nit
tens, and forgetting whose contempor-
airy she was-"see how selfish age isl
She remembers all her own part in it;
she fOrgets mine. For / also-it isfsO
long agO-I loved Paul."
THE RI,ACK RELIEF