The Lafayette advertiser. [volume] (Vermilionville [i.e. Lafayette], La.) 1865-19??, 1904-09-14
ZION are III. Why didn't you send

lac " tut wall.
Il know you," he mut.crcd. You
seem real. bat you're not-you with
your white rose"
Listen" she said. I'm going to
send for a doctor now-at once-and
then I will come back and take care
of you"
Again the fevered eyes turned to
hers. and again they sought the wall.
mo use," murmured the hCarse
voice, mo use to live; no future-nO
II who cares-only red rOses--red
rOseS--"
But his visitor, her soft gray Eyes
misted with tears. was already hurry
ing across the road; and, although it
was dark. Dinah was dispatched at
once for 4 doctor. while Miss Phoebe.
hastily gathering from her stores such
remedies as she thought might relieve
| the sick man, FASTENED bac ok to his
bedside.
For more than a fortnight Mr.. Lor.
ing lay in the grip of the fever. attend
ed daily by the physician. and hourly
by a gray-haired little woman, who
always wore in the folds of her dark
gown a single white rose.
Three weeks from the night that his
neighbor made her first call he had
improved so rapidly that Miss Phoebe
ceased from her visits. though each
Gay she sent Dinah with little delica.
cies and cordial inquiries. Finally.
one golden autumn evening, Mr.. Lor.
ing took his first walk down the road;
an occasion long remembered by the
n%eighbors. who remarked with delight
the old kindly smile and his wonted
pleasant though short bow of greet
ing.
Miss Phoebe had no thought Of his
return until she looked up and saw him
pausing before the gate. AS his eyes
met hers she flushed ever so slightly,
stammered some little phrase Of pleas
ure for his recovery and then turned
toward the house.
phoebe" said Mr.. LortOn.
"Well. JOhn:"
He put cut his hand. in which she
allowed her own to rest for a moment.
"Phoebe. it's twenty-five years since
since we used to stand and talk here
together at sunset: butts the little
p~ostoffice still open in the old gate
post?"
1T is open now; but, Oh. Johnr ex-
claimed Miss Phoebe. burying her face
in her hands. II did not get your last
letter until the day before l found you
ill.,.
phoebe! Phoebe.w cried Mr.. Lorton,
gently drawing her hands away from
her face. The tears stood in her eyes, |
and John thought them a gentle show
er that freshened the springtime beau
ty of her life.
"Have you got the letter now? Let
me see it,"
He drew open the gate ard went in
side, while Miss Phoebe took the lit !
tie scrap CT paper from her bosom and
gave it to him.
The letter was undated and read:
"My Dear Phoebe-You tell me you
are going away in the morning to be |
gone a whole month. a length of time |
that to me will seem q whole year. I
feel that I cannot let you 90 away with
out some token. l have tried to ex.
press. not onlv in words, but in a thou.
sand other ways, my consuming love
for you. Now, o Phoebe. blest angel
Of my dreams! send me a simple token
before you go. Will you be my Wife?
May I hope? If l may, then seni me
a pure white rose; IL I must no longer
hope. then send me the blood-red rose,
that ! may see in it my own poor bleed !
ing heart. Your ever devoted
JOHN"
Mr.. Lorton's hand which held the let.
ter dropped to his knee.
"And, Phoebe. you sent me o red
rose that evening""
"Oh. John, how could I know? It
by chance that I sent it as a tok-
en- OF remembrance. Then for some
reason we went away that night in.
stead Of the next day. so that I never
thought to look in the letter box. When
l came back a month later the blue
birds had settled there, and It was
only by accident that I ever received
your letter. twenty-five years after It
was written!"
Then. in a few broken phrases. she
told of how the long concealed bit of
paper had been discovered. and OF how,
on the afternoon she found him III, she
had covered the withered petals Of tho
red rose on his table with q fresh
white one.
But before she could finish Mr.. Lor.
ton was close at her side. his hand out.
stretched.