Year: 1874

whose heart he held, but I told him
urst ner story, which he said he knew.
ana =" loved her ali the more for Oh
the world looked so bright to me then /
MY darling was to marry at once. and
i've with me just the same, and I was
singing a song of Thanksgiving down
IL my heart day and night.


as the time drew near for the mar
rage, the minister came to me one dav
and said it had been the desire of his
llfe to go abroad, and now, with the
KIND permission and assistance of his
congregation, he had ecided to do so
with his bride. It startled me to think
must part with my darling after all,
and 1 said I would go too; bat
tancied he looked displeased, and think
ing he would doubtless prefer his rose
without thorn, gave up my obiec-
tloDs. 1t was hard. She had been
mlne-mine SO lOng-and must yield
ner now They would return in the
fall, he said, and so could count the
days she would be away from me.


When her trOlts8eau was being made
she would have nothing but of the very
plaInest, the most necessary, and would
accept no "portion' from me as a
wedding gift.


Il shall take him my dover of
roses, she would answer my remon-
strances at her persistent refusal
" You found it enough Will not he p
When she stood in her bridal robes
| ready for the church, and he came for
her that beautiful June morning, she
put In his hand her great bunch of
white roses, saying (as she said to me
that morning long ago), ''I bring them
to you. They are my dover ;" and he
bent down and kissed her. Oh, that
he had fallen dead at her feet


They went abroad. Letters came at
first frequent and gay with little stories
of travel and snabches of happiness run
ming through them then they came
quieter in tone-a little sad, fancied
=" hOmesick for me" my glad heart
throbbed-and then they ceased to
come at all and the fall came, and
winter, and still my darling did not
come. I did not hear. wrote and
wrote the people shook their heads
and talked, and finally I fell i'll,
Close to "the valley of the shadow of
death" passed, and when wandered
back into the green pastures again,
there was sad, gray haired old woman
looking ont at me from the glass.


1t was Christmas eve. I sat over the
fire, doing and dreaming always of my
darling. I saw her, as I had seen her
last, so bright and beautiful In her
bridal robes, and then seemed to see
her as she came to me that sweet June
morning long ago, in her little cotton
gown, and with the bunch of roses
trembling in her timid grasp. Then she
changed again, and lay there at my feet
woman, wan and pale. put out both
my hands, and she did not go. / whis-
pered, els it you, my darliUg?" and
the phantom whispered back, oh 50
sadly: eyes it is. I come to you
once again, but I have not even a rose
to bring this time my roses are all
dead |"


rubbed my eyes, and still it did not
vanish. And it was she my own
my darling-my Rosemarie-a faded
rose, alas all pale and dropping.


Oh the wicked, cruel story I learned,
little by little. How the "dower Of
roses" had not been the fortune which
her husband had coveted and hoped to
win through me How her persistent
refusals TO receive marriage portion
had been met with sneers and upbraid-
inRs from him, and finally, when the
lambs mantle had fallen from his ma
tuFe, revealing the wolf, how, neglected,
sick, and uncared for, in strange land,
she had summoned strength and eour-
age at the last to leave her husband and
come home alone, over the sea, to my
arms to die-aye, to die For, when
the roses bloomed again, they decked
hers and her babes death robes. And
when they come again, oh, may they
blossom on my grave