The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1897-10-01

his eyes as she mounted the stairs. her
skirts trailing and the candle held high.
She did not look back at the turn in the
staircase. Aylmer, in the smoking
room was ruminant. 1t was impossible
to mistake her.
Nor did he misunderstood. She said
"Yes" when he spoke the next day.
Lady Aylmer said: diana, Diana,
dear woman, God bless you!"
Perhaps he will" said Diana.
Now, in her drawing-room, the woods
saved and his future mortgaged instead,
Aylmer took rapid survey of his life
up to the point it had thenreached, and
decided that he I'D pursued the only
course open to HIM. Neither did he in
calmness repent the step he had taken.
Diana Granton had not her money alone
to recommend her. She was of the
world, and admirably fitted for the po-
sition he offered her. That she was
comely, has been said; and she took a
sensible view of the situation. He was
not in love with her, and she was wise
enough to conceal from him the secret
that her own heart had been revealing
to her gradually for some time past.
At dinner that evening she looked at
him and knew that she loved him. He
looked at Diana and thought of forgot
ten Audrey. 1t was the fault of the
roses in the drawing-room.
The scent of them haunted him-fol.
lowed him home. Poor little Audreyl
what would she think? But near as he
had come to loving her, he had never
made love to her. and had nothing to
reproach himself with; for which now
he was fervently thankful. Yet he was
not quite happy as his hanson took
him to Charges street. A memory of
something that was wistful at times
In Audrey's eyes stirred him. The thing
was absurd, inconceivable. Her mother,
gentle as she was, was woman of the
world, and had known he had meant"
nothing. Audrey was child to caress
and to pet. 1t was he who had suffered
at the parting. Her tears were the
frank tears of childhood, and rolled
down her cheeks unconcealed.
His misgivings told him he had done
we'll to go. He thought of the restless
ness that had possessed him during the
early days of his travel. He had written
letter that was never posted, and had
refrained himself until time and dis
lance allowed him to write calmly.
Presently the need to write at all ceased,
and he knew himself cured.
But tonight Audrey haunted him.
He could be thankful that he had not
made a fool of himself; the girl was
not Of his world. and he knew the folly
of an ill-assorted marriage. y
But she had been very dear to him.
How fair she wasi Her face in
situated itself persistently between
him and sleep. She must be grown up
now-yes, Audrey must be 10. The
curves of her slender figure would be
rounded, and many subtle changes
mark the time that had seen the cross
ing of the borderline of womanhood.
But she would be the same Audrey that
he had known, and been so near loving.
1t was late before he slept. Then
Audrey came to him in dreams that had
no definite shape. He tried vainly,
afterwards, TO remember in what giiise
and to what accompanying circum-
stances, she appeared to him. He only
knew that she had been with him, Sleep
ing as waking, through the night.
The air and the light of day. how
ever, cleared his brain. He spent a
morning with Diana, and by the time
she was sitting opposite to him at
lunch, he could view the situation calm
ly, and see that his happiness lay in
the direction he was taking. Nor was
he consciously selfish. He parted with
Diana and walked homewards. 1t was
time of roses. The roses in flower
shop caught his attention. They filled
the window. He found him
self in the shop. He had been attracted
by red roses, yet in the end it was
white roses he chose. He believed that
he made his choice by hazard and now
he sometimes wonders. 1t may be that
some thought of Audrey's nature in
fuenced him
He took out card and paused. What
to say? His love? He hesitated and
wrote: For auld lang syne." Then
he gave his directions as to the send
ing, and left the shop.
Three days later letter reached him.
He opened it carelessly, not recog-
nizing the handwriting. His fingers
frightened suddenly upon the sheet.
81 put your roses on her heart, wrote
her mother-"loose, as they came. She
would have loved them so. "-Peterson's
Magazine.
Ornaments Exchanged for Food.
During the Indian famine OF lS79-lsSo