The Washington herald., 1914-08-02
1.-THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSE.

Joseph
Tapped deep in the leather-bound luxury Of an
ample loungechair, walled apart from the world by
the venerable solitude Of the library Of London's
most exclusive club, Mr.. Alan Law sprawled
Qargely. on the nape Of his neck) and, squirting
discontentedly down his nose admitted that he
was exhaustivey bored.
Now the chair he filed gracelessy stood by
an open window, some twenty feet below which
lay sizable walled garden, an old English garden
IN full flower. And through the window now and
then q halfhearted breeze waited gusts Of warm
air. suave and enervating with the heavy fragrance
Of English roses
Mr. Law drank deep Of It, and in spite Of his
spiritual unrest, sighed slightly and shut his eyes.
An unspoken word troubled the depth Of his con-
sciousness, that old memories stirred and strug.
gled to its surface. The word was Rose" and for
the time seemed to be the name neither Of q woman
nor Of flower. but oddly of BOTH as though the two
things were one. His mental vision bridging the
gap Of a year, contured up the vision of 1.-The
sweet silhouette in white with red roses at her
belt, posed q terrace OF the Riviera against the
burning Mediterranean blue
Mr.. Law was DULY conscious that he ought to be
sorry about something But he was sreally very
drowsy indeed; and so, drinking deep Of winescent
Of roses, he fell gently asleep.
The clock was striking four when he awoke; and
before closing his eyes he had noticed that its
hands indicated ten minutes to four. So he could
not have slept very long.
For some few seconds Alan did not move, but
rested as he was, incredulously regarding a rose
which had materialized mysteriously upon the little
table at his elbow. He was quite sure It had not
been there when he closed his eyes, and dmost
as sure that 1t was not real
And IN that instant Of awakening the magic fra
grance Of the rosegarden seemed to be even more
strong and cloying sweet than ever.
Then he put out gingerly hand and discovered
that 1t was real beyond all question. A warm red
rose, fresh-plucked, drops Of water trembling and
sparkling like tiny diamonds on the velvet Of its
heshy petals. And when impulsively he took It by
the STEM he discovered a most indisputable thorn
which did service for the traditional pinch.
Convinced that he wasn't dreaming, Alan trans
ferred the rose to his sound hand and meditatively
sucked his thumb. Then he jumped up from the
chair and glared suspiciously round the room 1t
was true that practical joke in that solemn atmos-
phere were thing unthinkable; still, there was
the rose
There no one but himself in the library
Perplexed to evaporation, Alan fed the club,
only pausing on the way out to annex the envelope
he found addressed to him in the letterrack.
1t blank white envelope Of good quality,
the address typewriter. the stamp English, and
bore London postmark half illegible
Alan tore the envelope open in absent-minded
fashion-and started II stung. The enclosure
was a simple playing card-a trey of hearts!
AS for Alan Law, he wandered homewards in a
state Of stupefacton. He could read quite we'll the
message Of the rose He would not soon forget
that yearold parting with his Rose Of the Riviera:
You say you love me but may not marry me-and
we must part Then promise this that If ever you
change your mind, you'll send for me-" And her
promise: "T will send you rose"
But the year had lapsed with never a sign from
her, so that he had grown accustomed to the unhat
tering belief that she had forgotten him.
And now the sign had come-but what the deuce
did the Trey Of Hearts mean? =.
When morning came, London had lost Alan Law,
No man Of his acquantance-nor any woman-had
received the least warning Of his disappearance.
He simply and sufficiently removed from Eng
lish ken,