Los Angeles herald., 1906-08-19
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"I was now quite well, and cheerfully busy
sightseeing, the days going by all too quickly
for the things I wished to do, and when tele-
gram came from Fred that same morning, an
nouncing his arrival at Havre, was shocked to
find did not feel that delirium of joy | should
have felt-and would two months ago.
What allied me? Was ] falling in love? But
one can't love an abstraction, and had never
received word, a hint, a glance, to suggest
the unknown donor Of the roses"
She stopped, and the bride, who had for
some time evidently forgotten her tea, and was
sitting rapt, the egg-shell cup held poised in
her fingers, now loosed her slight hold and let
it slide to the floor, where it shattered with a
sharp crash against the brass claw of the tea
stand
She stopped to pick up the fragments, and
her face flushed and paled she rose, but it
was the other of the trio who cried out, impa-
tienty-
"Wel, go on! What next?"
"There is no next The roses ceased from
that day, as abruptly as they began, and Fred
came the next. I was delighted to see him, of
course, and charmed to return to my native
land; but, alas my rose-romance was ended,
and is still a mystery"
She rose, and drew up her dainty wrap.
"Well," she said, with sigh, 'I must go. Come
Annie, there's Mrs. Luxmore's dinner, you
know, and we have to dress yet. Yes, that's
satisfying; they have endings"
The two callers passed out, not overurged to
delay by their hostess-possibly she, too was
due at the Luxmore dinner; but she furtively
watched them down the steps with air of
repressed excitement.
At their foot they met the young master of
the house, who greeted them with frank cordial
ity, handed them into the waiting carriage, lift
ed his hat and turned again towards the house
at he md
drew him into the privacy of the little tea
room, fragrant with its rose-bowls and its gent
ly steaming beverage; and two fearful eyes
gazed into his own.
"Wil' said the choked voice of his pretty
wife, "Pve found out who received all those
roses we've wondered about so often-those you
ordered sent me in Paris before we were mar
ried, you know. The stupid florist sent them to
the wrong pension-to lady; and she-she-
she's in love with you!"
with me? Impossiblel She can't have the
remotest idea who | am. ] did not give even
the florist my name"
"No, but-oh, Will, it breaks my hearth
Good heavens, darling, this is absurd! Who
is the woman, anyhow"
''Ill never tell you--never!''
"Well, don't then; but"-laughing grimly-
"if she doesn't know me, nor I her, how can
We"
ooh, know, dear, know-you can't! And.
besides I trust you fully-perfectly; but oh.
can't you see? She has my roses, my romance,
my poem, my
''Not your husband, love- You stiIl have me-"
"Oh, I suppose SO, hut''-with fresh burst
of sobs-"it's too, too bitteri"
REALLY, my dear, your language is a trife
ambiguous
Hush Viii! Don't add to my despair I'll
try-yes, will try to be reconciled, only"
She threw herself into his arms, and neither
finished the sentence In fact, they avoid the
subject one avol1s some treacherous quick
sand; they avoid roses, too, and the little
brides home is no longer abloom with them,
while the pretty storyteller of that afternoon
wonders vainly why she has received the cold
shoulder of its mistress