The Forrest City times., 1904-05-27
White ViOlets
 By ADA MARIE PECK
Copyright, leo., by pally Story rub. coJ


 and evolve drlpery or a picture background, which had more grace, and was more effective than a bit of choice fabric in another person hands.
 Miss Kent sat at a little table spread with an artists outfit; and was paint ing an Easter card from a bunch of flowers
 Why don't you say something?" ran on her sister, in tone of slight vexa- Gon. If you think silence Is golden. why. then, continue to keep still, for it is gold I want, heaps and heaps of 1t"
 Miss Kent still kept her head bent over her work, but repeated in a low voice:
 'Whereunto is money good? Who has it not wants hardihood, Who has it has much trouble and care. Who once has had it has despair"
 That is just it!" cried Ann. who once has had it has despair To have inherited expensive tastes from gen. erations of moneyed ancestors. and
 
 heredity. My great-grandmother en- tailed upon me a liking for stiff bro- eades and soft laces and here my ward robe is reduced pretty nearly to that of Sioux squaw-a blanket and feather. Then, another thing, when money goes, how mach goes with it- social position friendship. love"
 VI t,rEf Ef4h Miss Kent softly returned.
 "Salome," exclaimed her sister. with mock sternness "Why don't you con verse, as our laudlady says. not sit there and hurl quotations at me. Talk about the opal paling or glowing as affection wanes or waxes. It is affec- ton. instead, that grows warm or cold when the heap of almighty dollars grows larger or smaller
 There was a sad. perplexed look on Miss Rents face, but it did not prevent Ann from saying:
 Do you suppose Hoyt Gurnsey would have left you without word of explanation if we had not lost our money? Would he have dared do it If father had lived?"
 "The only thing to do," returned Miss Kent, with note of entrcaty. lis to put yesterday out of our lives. Not worry about tomorrow, but remember we have only to-day"
 Will you get these cards done by four o'eiock?" asked Ann, accepting the intimation that the past was a painful subject.
 Even before then. When you take your constitutional, perhaps you will carry them to Morgan's for me l hope they will sell we'll" she sighed.
 Sure to- returned Ann, looking them over, "I like this better than any. There is so much real feeling about 1.-the dead leaves and withered vio- though what 1t has to do with Easter except the motto on the back"
 Then she hustled about the little kitchen, which adioined, and shortly came back with flushed cheeks. and a black mark on her dimpIed chin
 Mademoiselle Is served. she an nounced, with a low bow "In other
 
 We are like the two old maid sis ters l read about the other day" laughed Salome. cleaning her brushes "a crack in the floor constitutes the partition between our dining room and Kitchen"
 Miss Kent smiled at Ann's nonsense. giving her a grateful look. You are all h T s
 Now, l really am all sunshine" she declared, rushing into the little studio few hours later, breathless with ex- citement and fast walking. And you must go to making hay at once, for who do you suppose has bought ever 30 many of your cards? Why. Mrs Carson. Hoyt Gurnsey's cousin, you used to know her. Of course. she had no idea who painted them. but just raved over them, said they were so ar tistic So you can 20 10 work again. for she sets the fashion"
 As Miss Kent worked. she fell into a brown study, and there was a hot rush of blood to her cheeks. She had not thought that there was a possibili- ty of Gurnsey 's-who was either abroad or in a distant city-seeing the cards. Now, perhaps his cousin would send him one; and perhaps she would ask at Morgan's who painted them and tell him. and he would glory in her humiliation especially if perverse fate should lead Mrs Carson to select the very one of all others she would not wish him to see For, had he not said 10 her once, when she was in a proud, wayward mood "Salome one should never trifie with love-you might up- root 1t and repent. Remember: !" 'Violets plucked, the sweetest show
 CTS
 Will ne'er make grow again
 She had the couplet so consistently in her mind one morning that she al most unconsciously sketched in a bunch of white violets-the flowers he always brought her-with delicate pur- pie veinings and pale green leaves, and in one of the lower corners a shadowy group of half-dozen withered leaves and blossoms. Then she carefully let tered the little sentiment. and as it had no especial connection with Easter.