The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-08-03
THE ROSE AND THE WINE.

Iney were sitting in the summef house, my father and his gooc friend MT. del Rardo. and I came gaily along the garden path with tray of glasses and bottle of red wine for them. I wore white muslin gown and the braids- of my long, sair hair were tied with pink ribbons. l would surprise ny father and dear Mir. del Bardo: 50 I moved softly, smiling to myself as nearei> the summer house. An, no. no, no, she is too young only IS. and you are well. as old as I am. It would not do.''
 It was my father who spoke with his cultural German accent. By in- stinct, I knew that his words referred 10 me. and what they suggested made my heart thriil with a strange inex- piicable joy that was half pain. MT. del Bardon's replytwas not audible to me, but as I entered the summer house he Was leaning toward my father, his eyes shining with earnest eloquence. They lifted themselves to my face for an instant. and again l felt that strange. wild thrill and dropped my own.
 "Ah. my madchen. so you have come with the wine and the pipes" said my father. batting my hand. did not reply. and as I poured the wine my hand shook and I split some of 1t upon the rustic table. It trickled down upon the floor and Jay there like droops4 4of blood.
 "Carelrss Gretchen" laughed my father. But MT. del Bardo said noth- ing. I felt that his eyes were upon me. and I who had known and loved him since my babyhood could not re- tnTn htA IAAlr barrier had suddenly arisen between us. .slli- JBdt cid,
 1t had bees tany pleasure. always, after serving the wine to sit down be- tween the two and fill a pipe of to- bacco for each. This evening when had poured the wine turned to go.
 Child, what ails you!" cried my father. You have~not filled our pipes, nor spoken a word to us"
 My mother wants me-" I stam- mered with downcast eyes.
 But my father caught my hand and drew me down into the seat beside him.
 Please. please. father let me go!" I said. trying to withdraw my hand. You will not mind my go;ng?" glanc- ing timidly at MT. del Bardo.
 No, little one, no. We will fill the pipes for ourselves. Let her go. Bach. |"
 And so my father with a look of irritation on his forid face. pushed me from him and I hurried to the house and up to my own room. Here I sat down on the floor. and resting my arms upon a low chair, hid my face upon them.
 An hour later my mother called me softly to come down stairs, but time I heard her and my father bidding Mir. del Bardo good night at the front door. l crept to the window and looked between the slats of the Venetian shutters.
 Good night my father eaid. Think no more of the matter about which you spoke to me this evening. Believe me, dear old friend. my de- cision Is wise."
 You may be right. will sueak no more on the subject"
 I saw him so down the moonlit way to the garden gate. He was tall anG strong and manly, for all his 50 years and more. Presently I found myself sobbing. with my face buried in my hands. saying over and over, He will never speak on the subject again. never again. never-never!" An, ] was very young.
 After tnlS there was sort or rear full pleasure to me in his visits knew that he perCA'ved a change in me and that it huiv and puzzled him. and I felt that he was trying to win me back to my old careless, happy, af- fectionate relations with him.
 So things went on for a month. Late one afternoon I was in the gar den picking roses when d footstep sounded on the path behind me. turned and saw Mir. del Bardo. My heart bounded, In my bosom and the blood surged into my face and fell again. leaving me faint and trembling.
 50 you pick the roses. litetle one"
 His slight Italian accent was more marked than usual. I had often mo- ticed that it became So when he was agitated or excited.
 "Yes. am picking roses"
 An. how short a time 1t was since would have eagerly proffered him one; or gaily thrust the bunch under his nose that he might smell of them. How had I ever made so free!
 will you come and sit down with me In the summer house. little one, have something to say to you?"
 We sat down side by side. Neither spoke for some time. He. because he
 Sunday THE sTRATEGUM OF MIR