Weekly Chillicothe crisis., 1885-07-30
JUNE DAISIES.
A kensingtOn Romance.

JUNE DAISIES.
A KensingtOn Romance.
II was only n London garden, but it
was so walled in from intrusive eyes,
was so judiclOusly planted with flow
ers that could stand the air of cities
and the nelghborhood of smoke, was
so surrounded by trees, and the walls
that enclrclcd it were so covered with
crcepcrs, that it was difficult to real
lEe that it was actually part of that
"Old Court Suburb" which is now
part of London itself. There was an
old bowling-grcen that made tho
smoOthcst and greenest of tennis
lawns; there were stately alleys,
planted with quaint shapes of box and
ycw; an ancient sundial and moss.
grown fountain; trim walks through
trclised doorways, that led to con-
ServatorieS gorgeous with tropical
flowers; and shady corners, much APP
preciatod by the young people who
came to Lady Mary Hazlcwood's gar
den parties, and that at other times
were Meta Hazlewood's favorte re-
treat.
Lady Mary was the widow of gem
cral and Meta was her only daughter,
tail and rather stately brunette of
twenty-five, who had been out two or
three seasons, and had refused several
eligible offers without any very appar.
ent reason. Miss Hazlewood did not
even give any reason, The gentlemen
who had done her the honor to wish
to marry her were not to her taste, she
said, and seemed to think that state
ment conclusive,
Metas indifference to suitors WAS
the only point of difference between
her mother and herself Lady Mary
would gladly have seen her daughter
suitably scttled-as, indeed, what
mother would not?-but in the long
run the girl always had her way.
"Do you want to get rid OF me,
mamma?' she would ask, with one of
the smiles that were half saucy, and
wholly sweet; and there could be but
one answer to such a question. New
crthclcsS, Lady Mary could not help
feeling that her daughter was per-
verse. Tho feeling was intensified
Just now by an offer from Meta latest
admircr, and by the fact that Lord
CaSticman seemed likely to fare no
better than those who had gone be.
fore HIM.
~ cant understand it, my dear"
said Lady Mary, plaintively. "What
was there in Sir John Hope that any
girl need have objected to?'
"lle was not to my taste" said
Meta, for the hundrcdth time.
"Or in Captain Shaw? And am
sure they both worshiped the ground
you trod on.
"Thcy would have been welcome to
do that if they would only have alb
stained from worshiping me" said
Meta, lightly.
"My dear, don't be llippant; when
you really fall in love yourself, you
will know it is not n joking matter" "
"Ahl yes.-when | dor said Meta.
"And now there is Lord Castleman,
and you don't seem any more favor
ably inclined to him."
~ can't help it, mamma" said
Meta, rather YEARLY. She rose and
gathered her work together, and left
the field TO Lady Mary. She was so
tired of these endless lamentations,
and she knew enough of her mother
to know that she would not leave her
pet grievance till she had thoroughly
exhausted both that and her daugh-
ter's patience. So Meta put on her
hat and strolled into the garden, the
shady old world garden that always
seemed such II haven of peace and soli-
tude amid the whirl and din of the
great city. 1t was here that Meta
generally came when her mothers
mood was too plaintive or too loqua-
cious, not railing against the kindly,
unwise woman, even in her heart, but
feeling the need for little quiet and
solitude, little timo. in which to
gather her thoughts, and perhaps live
over again tho ono little month in
which the garden had seemed greener
and fairer and sweeter than it had
ever seemed since. That was five
years ago now-that one month of
Meta's life that had seemed to Lady
Mary, so much like any other June,
but that had made the very name "a
June musical forever in her daugh.
ter ears.
1t was June again now, and even in
London there was sense OF summer
in tho air. The garden was at its best.
with roses just unfolding, and creepers
greenly twlning and putting forth
delicate tendrls, as yet unsmirched
by dust or SCOT The great June
daisies that grow wild in such abund-
ance in southern pastures and on
breezy clitls by the sea, but that need
cd much care and pains to induce
them to grow here at all, were open
ing their yellow discs, and spreading
their white fringes in the sun.
Meta gathered one, and put it softly
to her lips. 1.-The one flower in the
worldW whispered the girl, and then
she blushed at her own thoughts, and
fastened the flower in her girdle, and
told herself it was folly, and worse
than folly, to let any mans words
dwell in her heart like this, and come
) back to her across the years whenever,
tho daisies blew. IL was five years
ago now, but every June, as the grea,
white daisies opened to the summer
sun, it seemed to Meta that she stood
S once more by Robin Lindsay's side,
: and heard him tell her that he should
, never see their blossoms again with
out thinking Of this garden Of his cousin
' Meta.
} .'Because they are Marguerites, and
am MargaretP" she asked.
d "lf you like. Or because they are
;. fair and white, and tall and stately
and beautiful said Mr.. Lindsay.
Shall find them and you still here
when come back, wonderp vii
4 the daisies bloom year after year, In
e spite of fogs and smoker And you
q Margaret, will you be here, in spite o.
A all the suitors who will try to win ant
wear the Marguerite that is the on,
flower in the world for meP She die