Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1885-01-11
A VICTORIOUS DEFEAT:
4 ROMANCE.
BY LCOTT LESTIER,
Author Of "a Potent PhnteI," "A Fair De-
vice." etc.

vice." etc.
II.
This young Englshman. walking bv
COnstance's side through DR.. Van Cleefs
garden, would certainly have struck a
MOrayiau spectator, If there mad CHANGED
10 be one, as d supremalv unusual figure.
for many reasons. But he would have en-
gagged the attention Of an Onl00ker with
no such traditions aud prejudices as a
MOTayiau's, for his height, which was IN
usual, and his strong, weil-knit frame
gave him, taken in connection with his
admirable bearing, an uncOmmonly posi-
tive presence. His eyes were the index
Of a sincere spirit, but they were perhaps
not notable IN any other way,
unless it is worth while TO
add that a subtle and often rather
Irrelevant humorous twinkle had its home
in them. His brown hair hung loosely
about his head. Doubtless his face was
not handsome; but 1t did not seem i'm
probable that certain persons might so
describe It. 1t was, at least, distinctly
earnest, and its firm lines were drawn
with delic&cy and security. Ii was a
strikingly genuine face.
March's dress was not modisn: it did
not insist. But he was very well dressed
indeed. This felicitOus point may have
Deen oil less easy maintenance, in those
nav al ~, .srsuual Gisappeara1ce OF rCf-
fles and knee-Breeches. than it is found in
this year of grace; at all events, its effect
- ---0 Of owen Hafca was a Kind Of
Oos~
distinction.
The garden 10 which Constance was IL
Producing him, struck him as cXtraOrdi-
nary. IL was garden OF gardens. Its
extent. the variety Of its exhibition, and
the care with which its achievements We're
nurtured and classified, seemed almost
professional. Something OF this he COM
municated to his companion.
Certainly said she, lit is my fathers
passion. He seeks out new species, and
cares for the old, with the enthusiasm
which other men spend upon books and
Violins, and butterflies, and what not"
Its a pretty enthuiGsm.o
sis il uOti One is very duh. don't You
think, to whom flowers say nothing? But
there Is very little now. You should see
il in summer. l hope your business in
America is not important. Father Will
want to keep you until ne can show it to
you"
Phey walked on through the walks,
thickly bordered with hedges Of mock
GRANGE, which had less stiffness than they
We're in gardens who beds are laid out
by trianguIstion. They came upon Ger
man who was engaged IN loosing the
earth from a great number Of pots, and
planting the green shoots which the damp
clay embraced IN fallOw space prepared
for them. With this man Miss Van Cleef
paused. to decide a horticultural problem
which appeared Of immediate impOr-
taIice As they went on: You are at
least the daughter OF an enthusiast" COM
mented March. zone might almost say
you had some of the original passion"
yes. / am fond Of II ALL" admitted
Constance, land one must do something.
You may have observed that we are not
richly supplied with means OF entertain
ment," she went on, a trifie bitterly.
lone cannot always read and spin, and
sew, and-yes the garden is a great re-
source. l scarcely know what l should
do without it."
The paths, which were endless, remind
ed March in their frequent dOubungs and
WindIngs OF a labyrinth: and II occurred
to him that, accompanied by such COM
panion. that ancient form Of puzzle was
by no means without its excellent quail
ties. Stres OF shrubs replacedthe grace
full hedg A as they came into the mere Sc
cluded regions Of the garden, and before
a rather odd bush among these March
presently paused.
This is not an American shTubF'
81 think not" said Constance. Look
at the little label in the ground there.
There are a great many foreigners;
father has An especial fOndness for them.'
0It is a HOIlander." said he, bending TO
read the neatly-inscribed Latin on the
finger-length Of pine that stood sentinel
before the shrub. 81 thought remem-
bered il. It's very pretty when it BIOS
SONS, and l attach little romance to 1t.
1t grows in the meadows near the dikes,
think. The romance is not mine; it De-
lOnged. with the shrub, to a young Dutch
studen Whom l knew at Heidelberg. His
betrOthed was trim little HOllandeT, who
lived with her mother, In Wretehed sort
Of way, up in some unspeakably lofty
rooms at The Hague. She loved the shrub
with the small remnant of heart that was
not given 10 Hans and her mOther-she
had some special sentiment about it; II
was their only flower, "A memory OF the
country abundance they had LEFT, and
that sort of thing-and when she died-lt
was very sad; she had gone with her moth
er, few stations out, with their pltlful
earnings to meet Hans, who was coming
home to marry her. Only her mother and
few others were saved. When she died,
Hans claimed the shrub, and took it back
to his rooms at Heidelberg, and watched
il with a logged loyalty and grim, hard
sort OF despair that haunts me yet. He
went himself, after while, poor fellow,
and one Of his friends planted the shrub
above him, and nursed it little from
y
bore every year the most perfect scarlet
blossom. His friend had sentiment
about il. and left bit OF endowment with
the authorities to preserve 1t always, L
believe. / don't know but it's LIVING
yet"
.HOw good Of you, Mr.. March,
u didn't say il was 1, y asserted ne,
looking up from the gravel which he hau
been studying with attention.
"Ah, but YOU can't deny IL" she re-
turned. smiling through a suspicious
a firm. slow step made itself heard APP
rroschiug on the path behind them, and
both turned. A gentleman whose white
locks were shaded by gray hat, with
far-reaching brim, and who carried a
heavy cane. was advancing toward them,
Father" said Constance, going TO him
as he came near, and taking his hand,
''this is Mr.. March,"
Indeed! You are very welcome, sir,
said the elder gentleman, bowling In the
manner OF an earlier day, and grasplng
his hand, ''yOu have come far to see US.
and | am grieved that / should have
CHANGED to be away at the time of your
arrival. But my daughter-she has made
YOU welcome. trust. Yes, yes" he said,
strOking her hand, and she stood rather
Droutllv, March fancied, beside him.
s.Yes. Constance is a capital substitute;
YES, a very good substitute" and he drew
her TO him absently ard kissed her fore
head. Lady Amprey, sir-is she quite
yyeIf and your father, Sir John. L fancy
I remember seeing him once, long ago
YES thirty years since now, sir" He re-
eartled March meditatively, as be stroked
his c!0se-shakeu face. You are one OF
tne Marchs OF DaYOnshire! les, yes; so
1 thought. so I thought"
He sat down suddenly on bench near.
His daughter was beside him instantly
ssYou are not well, fatherw
49, nv darliuO. Derfaetly rerfectly,"