Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1890-06-06
HIS FAYORITE FLOWER
by v RICHMOND.

green of it's broad leaves expanding
with almost tropical luxuriance OF
growth. No petted favorite OF the
greenhouse ever throve more determin-
edly, for it took its stand on the good
old democratic platform, and grew just
BIS vigorously in that low-ceiled room as
If it we're the conservatory Of a ducal
palace.
The fire in the chimney leaped and
fell titfully with the uncertain gusts OF
wind that walled round the lonely
house, and sent the red leaves whirling
like flights of tropic birds down the
road. The sky was gray and cherries,
save where a belt of livid gold above
the western woods marked the coming
OF the sullen November sunset. And
an indescribable something of the con-
sagious melancholy in earth, air, and
sky seemed to have drifted down on
Anne Wilton's heart, as she lay on the
ehintz-covered sofa beside the fire, her
large brown eyes half-closed, and the
needle lying idly on the delicate strip of
spfting with which she had been me-
ehanically busying herself.
Was she pretty, do you ask me-?
Well, that depends entirely upon ones
idea Of prettiness. OF color, freshness,
rosy bloom, she had none. DO you call
a pale anemone, a fragile violet, or a
co!orless statue, beautiful? OF all these
things Anne Wilton might have re-
minded one, as she lay there, white and
stall, the brown braids falling around
her oval cheek, and the small hands
crossed upon her breast.
MY goodness. Anne, the fires all
going out, and here you are half
asleepi"
Anne opened her eyes, and became
eognizant of the bustling presence OF a
rosy, dimpled damsel, with cheeks like
winter apples, and black, roguish eyes,
who threw fresh wood upon the brass
fre-dogs, gave the hearthrug an adjust
Sng shake, and hustled around the room
with infectious activity.
Better tonight, Annie?" she asked,
suddenly pausing beside the chintz
sofa, as a bird might light abruptly on
the branch Of ~tree-for she was not
unlike a bird in her quick motions and
careless grace, this bright-eyed little
maiden.
Il shall be better very soon, Grace
said the sick girl, evasively, taking
Grace Warren's rosy fingers in her own
transparent palm. did you inquire
for letters at the postoffice, as you
came by"
Yes; but there were no letters, OF
course"
Anne was silent for a moment. and
the unshed tears trembled on he1
lashes.
%Grace," she said, softly, edo you re
member that it is three years ago to-day
~since-since Alfred went away"
Remember it?-of course / do; ano
I've not a bit of patience when I re
member it. 10 think that he ha,
thrown us all aside, the friends of hi,
youth and poverty, like outgrown gar
ments, now that he has become a pros
porous lawyer and a famous man! Ane
he has forgotten you. Annie, his prom
ised wife!"
Hush, dear! There was no forma
engagement between u.s."
Il don't care!' CALCULATED Grace, witt
sparkling eyes; "the contract twas non
the less sacred in Heavens eyes; and i
Alfred Courtenay marries that ricl
H011cSS pooplo taIh dUout NO III
turn 50 pale. Annie. Surely the roon
is too warm. Shall 1 call your mother?
@No, I am better, now" said Annie
mentary faintness."
II know what it isl" said Grace, nod
ding her head emphatically. CDR. ia
always said it wasn't healthy to kee
that large ~gersnium in the window
Those spreading branches and cluster
OF flowers absorb every fresh breath c
air. Let me take it up stairs, Anne"
Not for the world, dear!" said Ann.
quite earnestly. ~ would not miss til
sight of its cheerful flowers for anythin
earth can give. Alfred brought it t
me when it was q little sprig soarcel
Two inches high, and he always used t
say that its bright blossoms in til
window seemed like a welcome to hi
in the winter evenings when"
Anne's voice broke down here, an
she turned her check to the pillow, or,
ing quietly. Grace said nothing. bl
only stroked her friends brown ha
with a touch that was full of unspoke
sympathy. She knew that tears Wei
Anne's best medicine just then.
And so we leave the two young CIR
in the red glinting of the freight, an
the chill CLEAN Of the November sunse
and turn to a far different scene.
Mrs. Montague Frances was g.
home'-"at home" amid blazin
chandeliers, dollhouse ~japonicas, an
gilded ceilings, to her dear five hui
dred friends in brocades and jewel
The brown-stone mansion was in a glo
from attic to basement, long lines
carriages were setting down the fashion
able world at the carpeted doorstep
End the band had just struck up a m
zurka, when Mr.. Courtenay lounge
into the salon.
"There's your faso;nating young lay
yer, Madelon," whispered a bloomir
matron in black velvet and diamond
and Madelon Frances turned her state
head, while the deep rose-color sufuse
her cheek and brow.
The h~ostess's beautiful daughter WI