The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1899-03-02
The following day I picked a bunch


sidered me one, beyond a doub), and
walked boldly over and rang the Sier-
lings' beii The white-capped maid
who answered my ring showed me by
her wi,.e-open Eyes that my reputed
failing wa, well known even In that
quarter. left message thu, my rose
gardens were al the ladies' disposal.
aud fed.
That morning I had put the finishing
touches on my new work, "Roses and
Their Cultivation" and for want Of
something better TO do began novel.
Before l had proceeded far knew II
would never see publication. for ii was
o partly imaginative account of my
own affairs. and as progressed be-
gan 10 weave q little romance about
Phyllis and myself, foolish thing for
an old bachelor to do. of course. Then
decided 10 wait. at a certain point,
and let the situation develop itself.
1t developed rapidly the next day;
in the morning received daintily-
written note from Mrs. Sterling ex-
pressing thanks for the roses, and in
viting me TO tea for that evening.
accepted the invitation, ii is needless to
relate, and il may be of interest to add
that did myself credit. They Iiscov-
cred that was quite equal to such
social function, and trembled not,
neither did grow purple in the face
and stammer."
Things went merrily for several
weeks. ! saw my neighbors frequent
ly, and Phyllis and often talked across
the dividing wall from our respective
gardens.
Then, when | had rescued my reputa-
tion from the clutches of Mrs. Pea
body by my own courage and peIsever-
ance. that courage failed me at the
critical moment.
How WAS going TO inform Phyllis
that ! didn't want TO be IA bachelor
any longer? | was sure it was a matter
of no consequence to her: | dreaded
to appear in the role of an ancient
adorer. I'm not SO old, after all.
could see Genevieves mir,h ready to
break out ut any unguarded moment.
Mrs. Sterling was evidently sympa-
thetic. but Phyllis-she was inciffer-
1
up that novel with happy ending,
placed it in one of my little blue covers,
and buried it. away. with many sighs,
in drawer of my desk. with several
others similarly bound and straight
way forgot ali about it's existence.
One day Phyllis begged me to allow
her tn read the original manuscript of
"Roses and Their Cultivation" before
| it was sent off to the publisher. De-.
lighted to fulfill her wish, 1 went to
my study and seized the desired vol
ume, which l gave to her. Then hur-
| ried 10 catch the afternoon train to
the city as / had some urgent business
to transact there.
The next day, perceiving Phyllis in
the summer house, l went over to see
her. Before ! had been there six min
utes knew something was amiss. She
seemed embn rrassed, and although she
kept her face turned away, could see
that even her little ears were deep
| pink. Her voice. usually so frank and
clear. responded to my commonplace
remarks in low. hesitating tones.
"Well, Miss Phyllis, did you enjoy
the manuscript"
Every mnch," came in scarcely audi
BILE tones.
that copy. as have another l can send
to the publisher" continued, cheer
fully.
A pair of startled eyes met mine and
dazed voice repeated:
| THE publisher? Surely, o, surely,
Mr.. Gay, you never intend to publish
this!"
She held out my supposed treatise
on Roses" and, shades of my ances-
tors, on close inspection recognized
that novel! In my haste had given
her the wrong manuscript!
Phyllis was evidently angry. If ever
u bashful man was in a tight fix, was.
I frst calmed her anger by explain
ing the mistake; told her had only
written the novel for my own amuse-
ment, for which imprudence I now
| humbly apologized; then, blind as I
was, did not notice how sad her face
became as I continued:
~ never intended you to see it.; of
course it. is all fiction, pure and sim
pie. especially simple. Every word of
| 1t fiction"
20! only fiction, Mr.. Gay?" she
| said, trifie stifily.
Then my good angel turned a ray of
light into my darkened mind, for an
swered promptly. with the courage of
my conviction:
1T is in your power to make it truth.
Phyllis. Will you, dear?"
And she murmured "Yes."-Credited
IN Chicago Tribune to Exchange.