Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-02-08
Felicity and the
 Rose Tree
By JEAN coURTENAY
tcop,right, 1908, by Joseph B. Bowles.l

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 The weak tones carried tremulously
 rough the quiet garden, and in an
 CT to the call girl rose from the
 fodils with which she was filling the
 Fket and sped quickly towards the
 use.
 Coming. darling!" she cried.
 As she reached the wide porch she
 most ran into the arms of man
 10 laughingly barred the way.
 Please do not detain me, Nor
 unt," she exclaimed. impatiently.
 0ther is calling me-
 You are an ideal daughter, Felici.
 he replied, stepping aside.
 She flushed faintiy. as if reading an
 piled reproach in his quiet words,
 d said, almost defiantly:
 But fail as a wife. Is that what
 u meant, Mordaunt?"
 Your perfect fulfillment of one
 ty. dear, need surely cast no blame
 on the other," said her husband,
 Eeting her defiant look with steadfast
 hderness.
 'Yet you are not satisfied with mel"
 II admire her daughter" he said. |th shade of bitterness, but long my wife"
 She is my mother!." she interrupt haughtily, then almost in whis- F added: And you knew. I made
 pretense."
 Again the invalid's voice was heard: f'Felicity! Where are you?"
 Fn an instant she was gone, and her lsband. with a smothered sigh, went 10 the garden.
 God grant it was not hopeless Estake!" be murmured, as he stood Hing with dissatisfaction a small rose |sh near the porch. T did it with pl knowledge of her indifference. Jew. as she said just now. She was fFfectly frank, as she always is. Her |bther was her one thought; her con- 1t the one object of Felicity's exist
 ce. And tempted her with the |kuries and alleviations my wealth |puld procure for that beloved parent I she consented to marry me. Inats St about how the matter stood a Tar ago-and now? We are as much rangers as we were then. She or. ITS my house and servants. plays an chanting hostess to my guests, is voted nurse as well as daughter to tr mother (who is fading away not
 thstanding all her care, and in spite
 her sacrihce) and neglects not one Ia of her duties. save that trouble me and superhuous being-her hus- ind"
 He laughed half scornfully as he brefullyremoved some green fly from e sickly rose bush and examined it's Isness branches. Getting up from s close inspection of the plant. he rought a can of water and gave it to ie almost lifeIess-looking Eosebush. Never say die must be my motto" 3 unused. e' ? What do> you find so absorbing in ! lat dead rose tree, Mordaunt?" His wife's politely frigid tones sud enly startled him from his soliloquiz- pg.
 Its not dead yet. dear Then after
 moments pause: Do you know that rose it is?"
 Not in the least. Tell me?'
 "I planted it soon after we were D ngaged." he said, slowly. q hoped it Tould have taken root here and four shed. pictured it wealth of fra rant flowers shoSering their sweet ess upon me in answer to my love nd care. Look at it. Leafess. flower sss; just alive and nothing more-re- using to be reconciled to its lot"
 You are quite poetical over it." aughed his wife. Tt doesn't look 'orth troubling about to me. Why ont you give it up?'
 q shall never do that as long as ve,- replied her husband. almost for citing in his earnestness the type of Is prototype. T shall never lose hope, rhile one spark of life remains in it. hat one day it may yet bloom and be appy."
 And its name? You have not ye, my ignorance on that oint."
 Its name is-'Felicite Perpetuelle.' She started. and her face grew hot: hen. as quickly. the blood receded, saying 1t whiter and colder than be ore.
 You are. fear" she hesitaied.
 "well? Won't you finish your sen. .nce7'
 Her husband stopped towards her, nd for the nrst time she noticed the eep sadness of his face: the threads f. silver that bad surely not been resent in his dark hair a year ago. md . wave of pity surged up within CT for this man with bis unfailIn. indness. bis uncsasing devotion pxsrds her-vho gave him nothing The feeling seemed to stifle her. and low tears gathered in her dark eyes Ter husband saw them. and they gave in courage to draw her slim igure dthiu his arm as be bent bis head tin nearer to hers and whispered: 'sTell me. Felicity
 T was only going to say-that-it oesu't look hopeful. I'm afraid
 But appearances are deceitful- ouetines.- cried her husband. eager '. Look hsre." And imPelled by ouething in bis tone. she stopped be- Ide him and saw that his finger vss