The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-06-28
AN EFFECT IN ROSEMARY.

The maie tied the last knot Of rib Don and adjusted the last fold of gauge. Contrary to custom they were quar- ter of an hour too early.
 Miliy Ellis. on the programs Miss kiiiicent Devercaux, laughed a little saFcastically.
 No flowers? We are, indeed, in a strange land. Run out the call boy anybody-there is yet time. There should be a florist near"
 And the flowers. madame, what shall they be?''
 A seconds thought, then rush of memory. For the sake of the past, Milly Ellis said, hastily:
 Lfiacs--white or purple. There will be plenty this time of the year. See they will suit my gown"
 The maid snatchcd cloak from the wall.
 "I win so myself, will not trust a youth. l Is a matter of taste"
 Then Miss Devereaux went up the steps that led to the green room and .tf the stage in front. She wished to See the audience before the play be- gan. She walked slowly and haughtily through the laughing, impatient throng of chorus girls and villagers and took tCL06C HI thG WiE8S eHC So "h opening in the curtains through which she could look. There was a sea of faces, a great audience, but nowhere one familiar face, although Milly Ellis had been born and grew up in this great city and now returned to 1t, the star of an opera troupe.
 The bran new chandelier of electric lights threw it's beams over the clean paint ard gay draperies of the sum- naeF theatre. There were rows upon rows of heads and faces. but nothing familiar to respond to the fond long, ing in her heart.
 A voice sounded beside her.
 "A great audience-a real triumph and you are quite at your pest to- night, Miss Devereaux."
 Beside her. bawing low enough, was the new tenor.
 Surely a success-but perhaps Miss Devereaux will accept the flowers she can so well carry in the ballroom scene"
 He held a spendid armful of rot house roses red and glowing. Aiss Devereaux dushed somewhat 4ngTil3. It would not be polite to refuse.
 'I will carry them in the one scene" she said coldly." but they are too sumptuous for the village maid. I must wear or carry a simpler flower with this gown"
 In the wings Felice waited with ao odorous bunch, white lllacs with the most delicate perfume. with the subtle wood scent, with the message of rer- nal hope of springtime.
 Thank God, there IS something left, '" whispered the wcmar's heart, some tfing sweet and unchanged.
 She stood apart with the flowers on her breast until her call, stood ab- sorhed in the dreams of an old house In the grove, of flashing waters, of old and gnarly lilac bushes of silent stretches cf field and meadow, of peace flor tMilIy Ellis, with her clear bird voice, had been on,y a simple country maiden ere she went away to learn to sing.
 Gone were the days of her trainJng, her struggle in grim New York; vau- tshed the Paris life where her voice had been perfected; Nike dream were the tours in iisrnall Italian towns to test her powers and to become confident in her work Gene. gone, nothing left nothing worth while save the spring mornings in front Of an old wooden house in a grove. the odor of lilacs. the calls of birds answering her own clear notes. mild and sweet beyond belief.
 No one knsw-for she was ever re- served as to her personality. No one knew that tonight she sang before her home audience. It was twelve years. and a girl is forgotten in twelve years. when fer friends have passed away into the silence of the hereafter.
 She went onto the stage with pen sive loveliness in her face and when she sang there were those tears in her voice that she dared not shed. the tears of the heart for the Jays that were gone.
 A girl again in her simple gauge gown and hanging hair, she carried away her audience because she seemed one with them. In the ballroom scene she was alien to the time and place. They resented the attitude, the hour the glowing crimson roses. Breathlesa- ly they watched the mimic escape as a gypsy girl longing for her home, joy
 Saturday, JOURNAL OF A CONF,