The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1910-03-08

dow in one of the sumptuous rooms
of hotel in the foreign city where
she and her aunt were spending the
winter, Iris Langthorne gazed out
upon the blurred outlines of build
ings. looming gray and spectral
through mist of falling snow With
dark eyes remote and wistful she
stood, quiet, pale, held in a pitiless
mood of memory. that dashed and
stung her as the storm without was
beating and lashing the naked trees.
Far beyond the heavy sky her Wis
ion penetrated; the gray masses
seemed to shift slowly and she beheld
a wide, wind swept coast bright with
immense reaches of sunlight, reflect
ing an atmosphere of topaz and am
Der, jewel-like in it's radiance Back
from the shore stood blue-green pines
and dark sentinel frs among which
the red roofs and chimneys of sum-
mer house shown wildly distinct
Gazing spellbound the dreamer saw
a wee girl in white come down the
driveway, meeting a carriage from
which a tall man alighted bearing in
in his arms boy with white face and
great dark eyes, tightly clasping to
bis breast violin.
The woman closed her eyes as
voice from the past seemed sounding
In her ears. Daughter, I have
brought you brother-the son of
my dear, dead friend. Can you not
welcome him?"
The scenes now began to pass with
Kaleidoscope rapidity before her eyes.
Turning, she went and crouched be-
fore the open fire, letting memory
have its will with her. Passively
still, yet with tragedy in her eyes,
she watched the dead yesterdays
coming to life before her. The far
yesterdays when she had romped
along that sunny shore with the new
brother Max, when they had roamed
the woods together from fragrant
dawn to purple dusk there at Pine
crest; then the winters in the city,
with Max eternally practicing on his
violin.
Swiftly they had grown out of
childhood and one wonderful day she
learned that her comrade had grown
into lover. Proudly. happy, yet
dazzled with life's young joy, she had
regarded it as simply one more gift
upon her altar.
Joyful years followed-and now,
vivid as If reproduced upon mimic
stage, there among the glowing Goals
another violin flashed before her.
Ablaze with lights, exquisite with
masses of lilies, she beheld a ball
room transformed into a fairyland,
and giving it final inspection a
happy girl stood in the wide arched
doorway Her gown of some deep
blue shimmering silk set off the deli
cate texture of arms and neck. Jew
els cleaned at throat and among the
masses of deadgold hair, while from
her shoulder band, rich among the
green of their leaves. swayed
fragrant spray of violets.
Suddenly through an opposite door
way dashed tall youth, dark eyes
agleam, in his hand cluster of
white lilies. At sight of the vision
girl flushed at the look of pain on
his face, and clearly the voices of yes
terday sounded to the woman before
the fire;
"Yes, Max, am the blue Iris to-
night and wear Dick Carleton's flow
ers. You must not be exacting. II
cannot always wear your dead, tame
Nuh 70 hot
MAXI"
And the other voice sounded grave,
reproachful: "Yes, Iris, you are love-
ly, but. oh, you know how l wished
you to be my white Iris tonight; you
cannot care for me"
Passionately the girl retorted,
haunting him with being more fiddler
than man.
Going to window he tossed the
lilies far into the night, and turning
spoke slowly: little girl, / am &C
ing away from you. / have allowed
you to trample upon my heart until
you value it as you do my lilies.
Lightly as you hold my love, it is too
previous to me, to allow even you to
trife with it longer"
Late that night, all the gay com
pany departed, from the edge of the
wood sounded violin sobbing. and
as it swung into certain strain
girl threw herself upon her bed and
covered her ears. Piercingly clear
sang the good night melody Max had
composed long ago at Pinecrest,
where he had played it every night,
explaining that it ended with: Il
love you, my white Iris good night.
The struggle tore her, but pride
conquered, and the strains died into
stiffness.
The woman in the freight pressed
both palms across her eyes and shud-
dered. All! that was yesterday, and
to-day had taught her well the rarity
of a love like Maxs. Calling her
maid, she submitted to a careful
toilet. and kissing her aunt, passed
into the reception hall to meet the