The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1898-02-11
POETIC JUSTICE.

i"h' VI 'iOiciS. jar, nOiulnS the
purple flowers, stood on the table be-
side the bed. The man who had Just
entered the room removed the unlight-
ed weed from his lips and stood mo
tlonless, inhnllng the fragrance
With an angry exclamation he strobe
TO the window, lifted the sash and
threw the offending flowers as far as
his strength would permit Down,
down, they nuttered, swaying this way
and that like living things, In the brisk
evening wind, until they touched the
turf OF the well-kept plaza OF the hotel
Hood Of soft moonbeams poured in
TO the room. The man stood quietly In
the refulgent glow. He was thinking
moodily. "Pahl Niolets were remin-
iscent OF Alicia" lie did not wish to
think Of her now, when the glamour
Of another scene was so freshly upon
nina scene In n dim old garden
where brilliant peoples blossomed In
rank profuslon. and the soft, languor-
Gus tones OF Castlllan patols made
music In his ears.
VINO could have put violefs in his
room! 1t must have been Lee Wing.
the Chinese boy, though sentiment in
the Acknowledged heather there was
none. Ii could not be that Alicia was
here-and his brow darkened and
curses sprung to his lips. Nonsense.
1t was impossible;" and he threw him
SELF upon the bed and lived over again
that hour In the neglected garden
lived with shining eyes and smiling
lips until dark lashes and soft arms
mingled with the fantasies of dream
land.
Herbert Somers had left his affianced
wife In an old Puritan town In Massa-
chusetts' three years before. while he
SET out TO seek his fortune. The we'd
ding day had been set for the autumn.
toward which the date of our story is
last hurrying. His letters to her had
grown less frequent with the years.
and he coldly analysed his feelings to-
ward her now. She had been a little
sister to him, obedient and trustful. He
had blindly offered himself one after
noon, when she wore n white gown
with violels at her breast and in her
hair. He loathed violets now.
She wrote him pathetic little letters.
full OF prayers and happy tears. and in
return he sent her sketches of his life
among a new people-careless letters
to which she returned as to a fetch. rs
deyout little heather as could he
found In New England village in this
century.
But her name never sprung to his
llnSt his lapfsf In. L..
However, he had fully determined TO
go to the old home and marry Alicia in
September. He would probably have
carried his promise into execution IL
he had not been blindfolded by fate
and sent to Monterey. ostenslbly for
business. but actually that Love might
entangle him In her silken meshes.
lie had tarried two weeks I'm the old
Spanish town already. Perhaps GER
tain glances from dark-eyed Sonora,
who was n guest at the same hotel.
could have told why he fingered. even
when In his pocket there were letters
from his firm urging him to move ON 10
fresh pastures. Two pairs of eyes. one
tender, one compelling. can no more be
governed 10y the rules of ordinary life
than can the tide cease to How by the
mysterious attraction of the moon
Somers was In m enchanted land.
His seasibility to beauty his capacity
for loving had In few weeks time
grown into giant influence, which he
could not control. Time passed-a
lustrum in q moment-he needed II not.
for the beautiful woman with the in
scrutable eyes walked and talked with
him every day Ia the old garden. where
plous monks and Jealous padres had
been wont TO mediate and pray.
1t was late when Somers awoke the
morning after the violets had been so
rudely tossed away. He dressed him
self hurriedly and FASTENED to the
breakfast-room. The Sonora was al
ready there. On her way she had
/ picked up n bunch OF dew-drenched
violets that had lain all night upon the
grass and there was a restless glitter
in the eyes she turned upon the man
beside her. II was Don Gonzales, her
husband
He had reached the place late last
night. the garrulous waiter had told
Somers, as he fingered over the rolls
and the bacon. The Senior was a rich
coffee planter and the Sonora was not
half his age. Shameful, this buying
and selling OF hearts. Somers gave a
furtive glance In the direction OF the
newcomer. Don Gonzales had fine
features of light mahogany hue. but
there was a squareness about the chin
and look Of determination in the eyes
that would have told a less Interested
observer that ne was not man TO be
trifed with. Somers took courage. and
after breakfast he leisurely followed
the pair to the broad piazza, where he
was duly presented. Don Gonzales