Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1891-10-16
A BUNCH OF FLOWERS.
BY EMMA A. OPPER.

Ethel Hapgood was pacing the long
conservatory paths, gazing idly through
the steamy windows. An imaginative
observer might have classed Ethel as
hot-house flower. She was slender,
delicately formed; she had thick yellow
hair, starry blue eyes and charming
face, whose chief color was the deep red
Of her lips.
her fathers father--a sturdy man, who,
working with his own hands, had laid
the foundations of the present large
family pOssessions-a man of energy,
originality, fine qualities.
Sometimes Ethel, with all her delicate
beauty, looked oddly like him. She did
now.
''What would poor mamma think7"
she murmured, guiltily. "She has done
everything for me. Why am 1 dissatis-
fed? What ails me?"
And then she went on recklessly to
answer the question.
'Im worn out-that is all. I've
danced all winter, and gone to concerts
and the opera and the theatre, and
bowled with two clubs, and What
is the use in going over it? I've done
everything! I've been so popular that
mamma has been perfectly happy. I've
had so many favors at every German
that got to be a proverb. And Allen
Litford proposed, and mamma was
grieved that [ didn't take him. And
Mr.. Dinsmore-I shouldn't dare tell
mamma how l discouraged him-him and
l1 GoI
shall never see a mani I should know
one If | saw one, I'm not afraid of that.
He might be a gentleman, too; he might
be of fashionable set; he might be
rich. Those things don't make a man.
But if he was manly-if he had spirit
and ambition and brightness, and wasn't
contented doing absolutely nothing, and
didn't think his clothes were all -impor-
tant, and never drawled and never bored
how l could like him! I shall never, :"
said Ethel, with solemn emphasis, ''never
see him. Well, and here we are at West
Bedford for the summer. To rest, ,
mamma says. And how I could rest if it
wasn't West Bedford! I'd take the dogs
and tramp in the woods and hills all day
But it's resort, and the Stanley's are
here, and the Eameses, and mamma is
planning little teas and dances in this
great country place we've hired, and
there's a picnic next week, and a dance
at the finest hotel tonight, and mamma
and | must 60. And shan't get min
ute's rest before next season sets in. And
I shall forget all these funny notions,
and do as all the other girls are doing
Wit I'd
tiirt some more, and marry the best catch
that offers. Mr.. Dinsmore, perhaps"
Ethel laughed, snatched white pink,
tossed her pretty head, and stroned to-
ward the door, looking rather less like
her grandfather.
She was not the girl the world took
her to be-but nobody would ever know
she was not. What could she do2 Moth
ing! and hopeless heart-rebellion merely
made her uncomfortable. Goodbye to
it!
She almost stepped on the toes of
somebody hastily entering the conserva-
tory, as she would have passed out. A
man, and young man. A perfect
stranger.
81 beg your pardon!' he said, in
breezy, bright tones; "but I found the
proper entrance locked, and I came
around here. The horist-can you tell
me where to find him?"
"Somewhere in the shrubbery," Ethel
almost gasped.
"Thank you! I'll hunt him up. I
want some flowers, you know" said the
young man, briskly.
All! Ethel was quick of perception.
She knew the rear door of the conserva-
tory. It opened on the road, for the
convenience of the gardener and florist,
whose cottage was just across from it.