The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1896-02-26

Old Mrs. Playford was better than
an advertisement in the newspapers.
The Bidgood girls came no more; the
city people kept sublimely away. The
old adage concerning the flight of rats
from a falling house came strictly
true.
"Rosa Bidgood hasn't even come
after that conserve OF rose-leaves l
promised her," said Mona, sadly.
"And I gave five dollars for the spices
and essential oil, and I dried the jac-
queminot and neil leaves SO carefully
and Clarie painted such beautiful
butterfly jar for it!"
"Can have the pot-pourri, Mona?"
asked Bess, suddenly.
Eyes. if you want it," answered
Mona, with shrug of her shoulders.
"We can't cat nor drink dried rose.
leaves"
"Perhaps we can" said Bess to her
self.
And she rummaged out divers and
undry rare old porcelain jars and
vases from the family stores, filled
them with the sweet, strangely-scent-
ed mass that Mona had concocted, and
carried them q uietly to town.
ssIt smells exactly like Mrs. Grey
toms drawing-room at the manor
house here!" exclaimed Ferdinand
Houghton, as he entered the studio OF
Miss Malvina Morris, fair feminine
sculptor, who had some very original
ideas of her own, and was on "hail.
fellow-well-met" terms with all the
other artists of both sexes.
She was neither young nor pretty,
yet every one liked Miss Morris.
"Well, I should think it might,
said she. "Do you see those vine jars
on the shelf?oo
"Of course do. What are they?"
"They are filled with conserved rose
leaves. Mona Greyton made them.
Bess, the second sister, wants me to
cell them for her. Real old porcelain
leaves full of the subtlest scents Of
Bendemeer. Will you take one at ten
dollars, Ferdy?"
"Then it's true?" said Houghton.
"About their financial troubles? !?
Unfortunately, yes," said Miss NAL
vina. 81 only wish I could help them.
Come, buy the pot-pourri-there's q
good fellow!"
sIt's my last ten-dollar bill," said
Ferdinand, "but here goes! Mona
Greyton is an angel. Do you suppose,
Miss Mally, she would accept a poor
artist like me, with no particular in
come and nothing to live on?"
"Try it and see," said Miss Morris.
"But I'm not half good enough for
her."
"Possibly," acceded Miss Malvina.
"But there are five girls, you know,
and nothing to live on"
SoFerdinand bought the pot-pourri,
and rode out at once to the manor
house.
"Your uncle, sir, wants to see you
up at tie house." said the groom who
led out his little gray nag.
81 can't stay this morning." said
Houghton. "I'm in hurry"
"But it's some very particular busi-
ness," said the man, running down
the pavement after him.
ooh, hang businessl' said Hough-
ton.
And off he rode.
Mona wss in the garden with a
basket, gathering more rose leaves.
She thought the pot-pourri question
promised favorably.
Clarice was painting desperately
away at old India ginger jars, up stairs.
Fenella was writing on advertiser
ment, "Boarders Wanted" for the
paper.
'sThe house is as big as hotel, I"
said she. "Why not make some use
of it,"
Mona Greyton listened with smiles
and tears to Ferdinand Houghton's
vehement proposal.
"But what could we live upon?"
said she.
"WhY, I could paint pictures, said
this sanguine young wooer. 1'm
sure to sell them at tearing big
price as soon as my name becomes q
little better known; and I'll have
your mother and all the girls to live
with u.s.
"Oh, Ferdinand" said Mona, half
laughing, half crying.
And then the young artist knew
that he had not pleaded in vain.
"And it's all owing to the pot
pourri," said she, "the sweet, poeti-
cal pot-pourri.
every bit of it," said Ferdinand.
But his uncle listened gravely to
the tale when the young man came
home, late in the moonlight, with his
heart full of love affairs.
"Humph!" said Uncle Barlow.
Glow many pictures did you sell
during the past year,"
"Two, ST."
cat how much?"
"Seventy.fve dollars each" reluc-
family admitted Ferdinand.
"Humph!" again grunted this re-
lentless old Rhadamanthus. "And
you expect to maintain wife and her
mother and four sisters Oh hundred
and fifty dollars year,"
II shall manage to maintain them
in some way way, sir" sail the un-
abashed nephew. "There's always the