Smyrna times., 1892-09-14
THE SCARLET GERANIUH.


There it stood in the old farmhouse
window, that scarlet geranium, its
clusters of blossoms glowing like spots
of flame, and the velvety green of its
leaves expanding with almost luxu.
rience of growth. No petted favorite
of the greenhouse ever thrived more
determlnedly, for it took its stand on
the good old democratic platform. and
grew just as vigorously in that low
ceiled room as if it were the conserva-
tory of 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 hurlinp
down the road. The sky was gray and
cheerless, save where belt of lurid
gold above the western woods marked
the coming of the sullen November
sunset, aud an indescribable something
of the contagious melancholy in air.
earth and sky seemed to have drifted
down on Amy Wilton's heart, as she
lay on the chintz-cOvered sofa beside
the fire, her large brown eyes half.
closed, and her needle lying idlv on
the delicate strip of rufIing with which
she had been mechanically 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 Won
call pale anemOne, a fragile violet or
a colOrless statute, beautiful? OF all
these things, Amy Wilton might have
reminded one, as she lay there. white
and still, the brown braids falling
around her oval cheeks, and the small
hands crossed upon her breast.
My goodness, Amy, the fires all
going out, and here you are, half
asleep" !"
Amy opened her eyes and became
of the bustlng presence
Of rosy, dimpled damsel, with cheeks
like winter apples, and black rogujsh
ey es, who threw fresh coal upon the
lire, gave the hearth.Tug an adjusting
shake, and hustled around the room
with infectious activity.
Better, tonight, Amy ?" she asked.
suddenly pausing beside the chintz
sofa, as a bird might light abruptly on
he branch of tree, for she was not
mike bird in her quick motions and
careless grace, this bright-eyed little
Il shall be better very soon, Grace"
'aid the sick girl, evasively taking
Grace Warren's rosy fingers in her own
transparent palm. did you inquire
or letters at the Post Office as you
,ame by ?"
"Yes; but there were no letters, of
Amy was silent for moment. and
he unshed tears trembled on her
ashes.
Grace" she said softly, "do Won
emember that it is three years ago
o-day, since-sinceAlfred went awavPn
Remember? OF course l do: and
we not a bit Of patience when l re-
member it! To think how he has
brown us all aside, the friends of his
'outh and poverty, like out-grown
now that he has become
prosperous And he has even forgot
en- you, Amy, his promised wife !"
Hush! There was no formal en-
Il don't care" calculated Grace.
With sparkling eyes, "the compact was
lOne the less sacred in Heavens ewes
md if Alfred COurtenay marries that
ich heiress people talk about-don't
urn so pale, Amy surely the room is
90 warm Shall l call your mother?"
mo; am better, now," said AMY.
rying to smile. ut was only a mo. !
nentary faintness, dear"
81 know what it isl" said Grace. nod |
ling her head emphaticalIy. "Dr. jaw
.lways said it wasn't healthy to keep |
hat large geranium in the window. |
Those spreading branches and clusters
# flowers absorb every breath of fresh |
.ir. Let me take it upstairs r'
mot for the world, dear !" said Amv. |
II would not miss the sight |
# its cheerful flowers for anything
arth can give. Alfred brought it to |
ne when 1t was a little sprig, scarcely
wO inches high, and he always used to |
ay that its bright blossoms in the win.
low seemed like q welcome to him in
be winter evenings, when"-
Amy's voice broke down here, and
he turned her cheek to the pillow.
rying quietly. Grace said nothing
'nly stroked her friends brown hair
With a touch that was full of unspoken
She knew that tears were
Amy's best medicine just then.
And so we leave the two young girls
n the red glinting of the freight and
hill CLEAN of the November sunset
md turn to far different scene.
Mrs. Montague Frances was "at
home" amid blazing chan.
leliers, hot house japOnicas, and gilded
ceilings, to her dear 500 friends in bro
AIDES and jewels. The mansion was in
J glow from attic to basement-lonO
ines of carriages were setting down
he fashionable world at the carpeted
Ioor-steps-and the baud had lust
truck up a mazurka, when Mr. Courte-
lay lounged into the salon.
There's your fascinating young
awyer, MadelOn," whispered bloom.
ng matrOn in black velvet and dia.
nonds. And Madelon Frances turned
Ter stately head, while the deep rose
olor suffused her cheek and brow.
The hostess beautiful daughter was
brilliant brunette; the liquid soft
less on her jet black eyes and clear.
lark skin made you think of some
flowing Spanish picture, while there
vas something almost imperial in the
urve of small, rose.red mouth. Her
Iress was ofsimplo white muslin, with.
,ut solitary ornament, and amid the
Inning prOfusiOn other raven locks were
wo or three vivid blossoms of the
carlet geranium.
Nor was she the only one in the
hrong who noticed Courtenay's en-.
rance. A "rising man." his brilliant I
alents had already constituted him
omewhat Of lion in metropolitan
ircles, and he was greeted on all sides
With welcoming words.
Here comes Courtenay-wonder
Vhen he means to propose p" languidly
emarked an exquisitely dressed
'outh.
"Propose-to whom ?" asked his
"Why, to Miss Madelon, of course
Is pretty plain that she likes him,
nd he would be o fool to hesitate at
he chance of obtaining a beautiful
wife and fortune at the same time.
lucky fellow, that %
well, |, for one, never could see
Vhnk - IL a