Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1881-05-19
WINIFRED'S SECRET.

Arnold dear. to make our nttle mousse
perfect" said Winifred Moreton, as she
clung coaxingly to her young husbands
arm; "and that is a conservatory-a
wee conservatory to keep us in flowers
all the year round Look here, in this
corner now, there are really three sides
of il ready built we should only want
front and roof, and that old door we
took from between the lower rooms and
the shelves inside"
"And the apparatus to warm it, and
the plants to stock it," added Arnold,
with a smile.
"Oh, as for those, my friend, Mrs.
Wodehouse, has promised to send me
most of hers; she is going abroad
shortly, and doesn't care about them,
she says; and she appears anxious that
should have them"
$3.50 you are jealous of your dear
friends conservatory, is that it? You
forget, little woman, that the Wode-
houses are rich folks, while you have
been foolish enough to marry poor
young fellow in government Office.
However, have your conservatory, my
Winnie, only don't be extravagant about
it."
A month later the conservatory is
finished, and Winnie is experimenting
the arrangement of cargo of fine plants
Just sent by Mrs. Wodehouse. All have
as usual label affixed to little peg at
the side of the pot, on which the
botanical name Of the flower is written:
but she suddenly observes that this, in
the case of the finest plant, is not
label merely, but carefully-folded and
sealed note directed to herself.
She opens it, and her blue eyes grow
first round with astonishment then
moist with pity as she reads. Finally
she sits down among the flower pots,
and looks at them az they stand Just
where the men have left them, and there
is a sort of suparstitious awe depicted
on her face, as if she fears lest the
arrival of these pots of flowers is also
the arrival of a great misery in her
home. All her pleasure, her almost
infantine delight over the new conserv-
atory is gone it seems to have passed
away as rapidly as the short exclamation
of Joy with which she has hailed the
advent of these floral treasures. In her
hand she still holds the note containing
the cloud which, wreathing itself about
her mind, is already beginning to dim
the clear horizon Of Winifred Moreton's
bright young life. She is reading it
once again with much intentness, when
she hears her husband open the outer
door with a latch-key. She thrusts it
into her pocket with hurried eagerness,
and then strives, but rather vainly, to
compose her face into an appearance Of
creditable tranquility. The first secret
has sprung up between her and Arnold,
and The keeping of it then and in the
future will prove heavy tax on Wini-
fred's candid nature.
He cannot avoid noticing that some
thing is amiss, and exclaims:
"why, little wife, how grave you look
over your new toyl You have got your
conservatory; you have some lovely
flowers to put in it--very kind of Mrs.
Wodehouse to send them-and still you
look as il you had some heavy care on
your mind. What is the matter, my
dear WINNER"
"Please, Arnold, let me send for old
Roffey, the carpenter, to put up some
shutters and bar across here, and a
couple Of bolts to the door"
Foolish Winnie, do you think your
plants so very precious that all the
burglars in town will be after them
However, have your way. Send for that
old carpenter with face like battered
halfpenny, and make your floral treas
ures quite secure. Meanwhile, perhaps
you will treat me TO smile and kiss. .
Days passed into weeks, and the con.
seryatory was never out of Winifred's
thoughts. Her plaything had become
her bets nofrs, nor could all the care and
eolicitude Of her husband, whom she
loved to alteration, lay the ghost which
seemed to be wandering about hel
heart.
Arnold had some thoughts Of sending
for physician, as he positively was be-
ginning to fear that Winifred had some