The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1914-09-10
! HIS PINK CARNATIONS
BY JULIA TRUlTT BISHOP.

They both knew that the reception
of the season had been failure. They
had quarreled between the last stroll
and the buffet lunch-that was patent
to everyone.
Here are your flowers he said
icily, laying them in her lap. you
were about to leave them-quite by
accident, of course"
She laughed at him lazily and
shrugged her shoulders. 1t was a
pity to spoil such pretty shoulders
with such an unpleasant shrug.
J. He closed the carriage door. His
way happening to lead in the same
direction, he walked after her.
watching the carriage angrily.
Half a block down the street some
thing bright flashed out Of the car
riage window and dropped on the
crossing.
She had thrown his flowers away.
Pink carnations. He had bought
them for her a few hours ago with
what feelings of love and of pride in
her beauty; and now-once more
they were at enmity and she had
! shown everyone how little she cared.
His flowers were in the street.
He turned unsteadily at the cross
! Ing and started toward them-to
gather them up, out from under the
passing wheels, as though they were
| human and could suffer. But some
one else was before him. He heard
a little gasping cry of delight and
figure stopped over the fallen flow
ers and rose up with the whole
bunch clasped eagerly to her breast.
He saw her face for moment-the
face of a pale girl, f1ower-starved-
and then she went on and was lost
in the crowd.
Duncan Lane passed on his way in
altered mood, brushing angrily at an
irritating moisture that made his
eyes burn.
"Gwendolen has had the world and
the fullness thereof all her life," he
said to himself. ''It is easy for her
to throw things away"
Two days later he was going back
to the beautiful apartments which
had once been pleasure to him and
which had now grown to be bitter
ness of spirit. In the elevator was
the quiet girl who had a room, or
rooms, on some one of the floors
above him. He had seen her many
times-every day, almost-but he had
never really noticed her. He would
not have noticed her now, perhaps,
but that a sudden jerk of the elevator
almost threw-he down and as he
caught her arm he saw the half-with-
e~ed pink carnation pinned to the
bosom of her black dress.
Then he remembered. She had run
out into the street to pick up the
flowers his love had thrown away.
"You are sure you are not hurt?"
he inquired anxiously.
She was not hurt in the least, she
said-it had been the merest little
Jar. The trifing accident had made |
him feel that he had a right to speak
to her
Il see that you love flowers" he
said, looking at the forlorn carna-
ton. Her face flushed a rosy red.
"Yes-EI found this in the street."
she said, with childish candor. II
couldn't have afforded to buy them"
The elevator had gone past his
floor. Now it went past hers and
sped up higher.
"Was this one all?" he found time
to ask as the elevator paused under
the roof. She answered him quite
seriously.
"Oh, no-there was whole, great,
generous bunch of them. I have them
In water in my room. But you know
Thought I might allow myself just
one every day, to wear while I was at
work. It keeps things from seeming
$3.50 sordid, you know"
"And when they wither you will
have to throw them away" he said.
She turned on him with amaze
ment
''Why, I wouldn't dream of such
thing she cried. IT shall put them
away in my desk and keep them al
ways. They'll make pleasant men,
DRY, you know--and pleasant memo
ries are not so abundant that one
can afford to throw them away
Down in his own beautiful rooms
Duncan Lane leaned back in an easy |
chair and looked at the carnation ly-
ing on the table. A letter lay beside |
it-a letter that had been awaiting |
his coming.
With an impatient sigh he opened |
the letter and read:
well, you Unreasonable creature,
If you have sulked sufficiently and |
are duly sorry you may come up to-
morrow evening and take me to the !
theater and to supper at Feretti's i
afterwards. Be sure that you have
your prettiest apologies ready. For
givingly, GWEN"
"My Dear, Gwendolen," he wrote, 81
have gone after the flowers which
you threw away. We have both gone |
SO far-the flowers and THAT it
wouldn't be worth while for us to try ,
to go back
Miss Gwendolen Darcy was forced !
to tell her friends in the Land of the