The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1879-10-02

something occupied his time exclusively;
and when he might have read it, he had
changed his coat, and could not find it.
Being a little lame, and feeling obliged
to attend the reception of the College
President, unwilling to lose a moment
of his watch, which he could not easily
delegate, he ordered a carriage and pair
to take him to old Rex's gate, and
stumped up the stair with his precious
prize before him.
Was ever any thing lOvelier than this
vision in the doorway, with the shaggy
old Professor Redmond behind her? So
ethereally fair-the eorn-silk hair, the
eyes like starry bluets: it was the i'm.
personation of girlhOod and of inno-
cence. With huge cluster of creamy
white roses pinned in her belt just over
her heart, in their center a red one
blooming like the live sweet secret
thought beating in the heart beneath,
and in her old pearl-cOlored draperies,
she would have seemed ready to melt
back into the outer twilight world, like
the spirit of the evening star itself, but
for the great bunch of red Jacqueminot
roses in her hand. What did she know
of her lovers wish? Nothing He had
given these roses to her; he would be
here; of course she wore his flowers.
The old President Rex had as good
an eye for beauty as any undergraduate
of them all; and although the young
class-day poet was receiving an ovation,
he left him in order to welcome this
perfect creature who had just come to
his parlors out of fairy-land.
just then the band was softly playing
the LANDER waltzes; old Rex was over
pOwering her with his fiattering speech;
the music was enchanting; there stood
Adrian before with his eyes shining full
upon her, although across the room
she could not bear it ALL Absently she
lifted that bunch of roses, and buried her
face in all that blaze of color and de-
irium of fragrance.
'JacqueminOt roses,'' said the gal
liant old Rex in way that would have
made a student shudder. ''But the
Madame Blanche look more like yOu.n
At that moment Adrian slipped from
the room. She looked for him present
ly, but he was gone. And although they
staid but an hour, it seemed to her an
endless period before she stood at last
upon the step in the dark and perfumed
summer night, with the wretched tears
of disappointment getting leave to over
flow upon the roses that she held so near
her face. Her uncle came hmping along
behind her. Professor Redmond's
carriage!" called servant.
"Here!" shouted reply. Then a
hand was helping her up the step,
whip was cracking, horses were plung-
ing, her uncle was yelling into the uni
verse, Adrian's. arms were about her,
she was resting on his breast, and they
were dashing madly away. ''YOu are
here, you are mine,' - he was murmuring
between his kisses, ''never to leave me
again. You exchange one jailer for an
others.''
Before she well knew what had hap
pened, what it meant, she was standing
in clergyman's study; papers of some
sort were being scanned; a kind, silver
haired lady was giving her glass of
water; words were being hurTiedly ut
tered, to which if she replied she did not
know it. Somebody put into her hand
a little slip that he called a marriage
certificate; somebody spoke to her by
another name-Adrian's name; the
kind lady kissed her, and she was out in
the dark, sweet summer night again;
was in the carriage whirling away, and
Adrian was holding her, and calling her
his wife.
''Are we marriedP'' she gasped. cam
I truly your wife?" and then she
burst into a flood of tears. And I've
nothing but this gauze gown!" she cried.
"And your Jacqueminot roses,'' said
he.
So that was the way it all happened.
1 know that by this time the Professor
has forgiven it all he can't do without
her. But the Aunt Redmond had a sor-
ry time of it for one week. ''I don't
blame him at ALL declares Adrian.
"I'd have done the same in his place. l
wouldn't have given her to the archan-
gel Michael, let alone the son of a fish
ing merchant, if the merchant were ten
times a millionaire, and the son ten
| times nearer a professOrship himself. y
The Professor has had the little fatal
note glazed and framed and hung up in
his den, but he has never yet been able
again to endure with equanimity the
sight of Jacqueminot roses.-HarpeT'S
BGSGT.