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

THE POT-POURRI.
80 cftf l sFTgr
1t was just after the roses had done
blowing. They were all sitting by twi-
light in the yellow drawing room
somehow it always seemed twilight there
when it was dark everywhere else-and
ROsamOnd got up and stirred her pot
pourri in the old claret-cOlOred Chelsea
jar between the windows; and such a
sweet, faint OdOr of rose leaves stole
through the room that the old people
felt as if they too were young and the
time was June again.
ut is too powerful" said Miss Effing-
ham, waving her big peacock-feather
fan.
TOO powerful?" said Mrs. Penn, put
ting away the silver curl that the neigh
boring fan brushed into her soft brown
eyes. "NOt for me. Nothing is so pleas
ant to me as the pot-pourri, and in the
old jar, too. 1t is not the rose, but it is
the memory of the rose. 1t brings back
all my youth. And although age is pleas
ant enough as it comes to me, yet youth
was so very Sweet-SO very sweet, my
DEAR" and the silver voice paused, while
a slender hand went searching through
the purple gloom for another hand, and
found 1.-THE hand of the speakers hus-
band. people think it so sad to grow
DID, she said, "But every year has been
to me like another step to an upward
path to paradise. Ones, wings are grow
ing all the way. And one has so much
to remember, to look ON when one pauses.
to see in new lights. Do you suppose
that either of us would change places
with ROsamOnd and Bertram there who
have life before them?"
Not l." said the voice that responded.
''NOt that you would not be glad to
live your summers over again, Paul?"
Il am sure of them now, at any rate"
said the husband. Il have them. Moth
ing can take them from us"
'And we ask nothing more" she said,
"than to be laid in one grave when the
long night comes"
'And the endless morning." he muir
INJURED.
And even the endless mornings can
hardly be brighter than some of the
mornings of our yOuth-than the morn
ing when we first made the pOt-pOurri,
Paul. You remember that morning,
Paul?"
do you remember it, Aunt Persist"
asked RosamOnd.
"Shall ever forget t?" she said, with
a low, sweet laugh. "Why, when l am
dead remembrance of that morning will
bloom out of my grave like flower! And
yet it was much such morning as any
day last mOnth-Only so glorious, so gild-
ed, so full of sunshine! But what a gray
and lowering, shOwering dawn it had!
If we had never had that little quarrel,
PAUL. All, was so sad when / parted
the curtains that daybreak. thought
was done with my life-andit was pity
i so young"
Here Rosamond pinched Bertram's
arm.
so young. And might have been
blessed" said her old Aunt Persis. IF ]
gave that morning, just the swiftest
glance across the garden to PauPs win
dow, and saw that he sat there over his
book. he could not tell. And then
dressed me; and thought of some young
girl being dressed in her grave. And
then pinned ON my white frOck-G la
laueuse, you call it now, ROsamOnd-and
went down to the rose garden to pick
the flowers with the dew on them for the
pot-pOurri that grandmama had hidden
me never to forget in the time OF roses
SIT was the time of roses
We plucked them as we went,
sang Bertram, half under his breath.
"And picked them till my basket on
nv arm was heaped. The rose garden
was Just as it lis to-day, on terrace
higher than the rest of the garden. And
when turned about / saw Paul had
come down, and was walking in the
pOplar alley of his grandfather's garden
bare-headed, with his hands behind him.
and his head fallen on his breast. All
how beautiful he wasl so tall, so dark, SO
like fallen star. And l loved him so;
and we had quarreled. had been mis-
cradle Just fOrty-eight hours. 1t seemed
to me that had never been happy. j
had lost my youth; l was DID, had
come into the shadow. There was an
other young girl" she said, after mo-
ment's pause, as if even the sorrows of
youth had their sweetness that it was
good now to remember, that Pauls
grandfather had chosen for him to
marry. / may speak about it now, L
suppose; she long since ceased to care;
she was, she is, my dearest friend, and
Paul has always loved her as a brother.
She has had many suitOrS since; with
one of whom she plighted faith, so she
has kept her trust with death. But II
thought that because / adOred Paul, all
the world was at his feet; and when his
grandfather said this other was to be his
choice. with her great fortune at COM
mand. and I remembered that / had only
this house and its belongings for my own
fortune, why, then looked well after
my lover. Yes, he was my lover. 1 had
felt sure of that, although he had never
said so, never exactly said so in words;
but we do not always need words. And
now, all at0nce, all in twinkling, as If
the sun had gone out at noon, hewas the
lover of another girl. And could not
have believed or dreamed that the for
tune would have made any difference
with Paul, or the grandfather's wish, or
heavens thunder bolts even, before /
saw it for myself, 1 saw him go and
turn the music as she played upon the
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. 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, a groom
came and led the horse off. 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 Paurs lucky hit. And