A Cluster of Violets

Bruce Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 130, 21 April 1903, Page 2

A Cluster of Violets

LAURENCE MAYHEW was the quietest of all the traveling men connected with the firm of Knight, Powers & Co. the most prosaic, unsentimental, matter-of-tf act fellow one would find in a month's search. So when Horace Worth, another drummer for the same houses — one raw, chilly day in March,, chanced to step into Prantz Karter's, the florist's, just in time to hear Mr. Mayhew say: "Now, Mr. Karter, do not fail to get the violets off by to-day's express. Same address as usual, yooj have it, I suppose. And here, put tJiis card in the box; my train leaves in 15 minutes, or I would stay until you got them packed," and when Worth accidentally saw that the card bore the inscription: "To my daa-ling, with a heart's best love — Laurence," to put it mildly, he was astonished. "Hello, old fellow," said he, "sending violets to your best girl, eh?" "Yes, I thought they would surely be appreciated suoh a dismal day as this." "Well, you are the last man I would ever suspect of being guilty of falling in love; a confirmed old bachelor like you, with plenty of gray hairs. But they say when a man of 40 or over does get hit with Cupid's arrow he is hit hard." "At any rate," laughed Mayhew, "in this instance I confess it is true, I am x J_it hard,' as you say, and my 'hest girl* is the dearest girl on earth," and he hastened away to the depot, where his sample case had preceded him. Worth had only entered the employ of Knight, Powers & Co. six months before, but during the time he had met Mayhew several times and had liked him from the first, mentally dubbing him a good fellow, with a keen sense of humor, ready to take or give a joke in his quiet way, but seldom entering into the story-telling of hie brother knights of the grip, when — as was occasionally the case — some of them met at the end of their several trips; and he had never been heard to boast of the pretty girls he, had met, or flirted with, as* some of the others were wont to do. So the above incident impressed itself upon the memory of Horace Worth, who, although a voluble, easy-going man, was kind hearted almost to a fault, and possessed of a strict sense of honor. £ .. Two months later Mr. Worth happened to be spending Sunday at a small town some' 50 miles out from the city. Saturday evening the ladies of one of the churches were serving ice cream and strawberries in a hall near the hotel where Worth was stopping, and to while away an idle hour as much as to help in a good cause, he strolled in about nine o'clock, and took a seat at one of the tables. A bright little woman came forward to serve him, and he instinctively noted her plain, but attractive face, lit up by large gray eyes, and crowned -with a. -wealth of hair, once dark brown, but now thickly threaded with silver. The rush of the earlier part of the evening being over, he was the only one at that table, while disposing of the daintily served refreshments the little woman brought in response to .his request; so, seeing that he was a stranger in town, an/1 seemed to know no one, she remained by the table pleasantly chatting in a manner that showed her to be a lady in every sense of the word. Sc;on some one called, "Oh, Mrs. Mayhew, please come here a minute," and saying "Excuse me," she hastened away. Five minutes later she returned, Mr. Worth not yet having paid for his refreshments. As he handed her the amount he said: "Pardon me, but I heard your name called, and it is a .fun. "liar one to me, as another traveling man with the firm I represent bears it, Mr. Laurence Mayhew. Is he a relative of yours?" - Quickly smiling, she said: "Oh, do you know Laurence? *Why, he is my husband. I am glad, sir to meet a friend of his; may I ask your name?" "Horace Worth, at your' service," replied he, bowing, "but you surprise me. I did not know that Mr. Mayhew had married; may I. inquire how long since the happy event took place?" "Did not know* that Laurence was married? That is strange," laughed #&<?; "/et perhaps not atrange, either,

lot he is bo reticent regarding his own affairs. Why, we have been married 15 years, though were it n t for my son and daughter, both of whom will soon be as tall as I am, I could hardly realize it had been so long by half," -md again she laughed merrily. It was with difficulty that Horace restrained his astonishment, and as the scene at the florist's two months before flashed across his mind, his v iiy dignation knew no bounds. But by an effort he quietly made a few more commonplace remarks, bade her good night and returned to the hotel. "The scoundrel!" thought he, "to be untrue to such a fine little woman as that, and the mother of his children, too, just because he has been attracted by the pretty face of some young girl, while his wife's hair is gray, like his own! I feel like shooting him!" He sought his room and bed, but it was nearly dawn before sleep visited •his eyelids, sb wrought up was he over his discovery of the evening. He felt he ought to warn her, the- poor little, unsuspecting> wronged wife, and yet he dreaded to be the executioner of the love and trust with which her face was radiant while speaking of her husband. At length he dropped into a troubled sleep, to dream that Mrs. Mayhew, pale-faced and wan, stood by his side piteously saying: "Oh, why didn't you tell me? If you had it might have been in time for me to have led him back out of the snares that wicked girl laid for him. And now— he is gone, gone, and my heart is broken!" Late in the morning he awoke, more impressed than ever that it was his duty to warn the \-ronged wife, disagreeable though it might be. So he secured writing material, and after destroying sheet after sheet of paper, he finally composed a note in which he told her, in as gentle a manner as possible, of the episode at the ilorist's, and closed by begging her not to think ill of him for being the bearer of such news, as he very greatly regretted the necessity he felt he was under to warn her, nnd expressing the hope that with her knowledge of the affair, an influence might be brought to bear that would counteract any evil toils into which her husband had — probably unconsciously — fallen, and that happiness might once again be hers. This note he dispatched by the bell boy, about the time he judged she might have returned from church. A half -hour later a white inclosure was handed in at his door. He .tore it open and read: "Mr. Horace Worth— Dear Sir: To say that I was amazed at the contents of your note falls, far short of expressing- my feelings.. If not asking too much of you. will you please oall at my home at four o'clock this afternoon? I appreciate your intended kindness. I reserve all else to aay to you in person. Sincerely yours, "AGATHA MATHEW." The writing showed aigns of agitation, and it was with quickly beating heart that Mr. Worth presented himself at Mrs. Mayhew's door, at the appointed hour. He was admitted by the maid and shown into the parlor, where he was at once joined by Mrs. Mayhew. The pallid face and swollen eyes, for which he was prepared, were absent. Instead she greeted him with smiling countenance. "Mr. Worth," said she, "I sent for you, not — as you probably supposed — to question you farther concerning my dear husband, but to free your mind from the unjust charges which I give you the credit of honestly believing. At first I was angry over your intimation, but I believe yoi< »o be a gentleman, and that you took tbe course that you did from a sense of duty. Fifteen years ago the 20th of Inst March we were married. On that never-to-be-forgotten day, I wore a bunch of violets, and the table where the simple luncheon was spread was decorated with the same. Since that day, the 20th of March has never failed to bring from my dear, thoughtful husband, a fragrant cluster of violets; and two months ago, as usual, when he is absent at that time, there came by express a box of the sweet flowers, containing this card," and she held out the wellremembered bit of bristol board, on which was written, "To my darling, with a heart's best love — Laurence." "The next mail." continued she", "brought his usual daily letter, in which he told the joke of your supposing' He -was a bachelor, how you asked if he was sending flowers to his best girl, and of his reply. That is just like Laurence, to have a little quiet fun at your expense, by never correcting your erroneous supposition. I hope you will forgive him for it, just as I have forgiven you for your slanderous thoughts of my husband," and she smilingly extended her hand. Just how Mr. Worth managed to take her hand and bow over it, stammer o\it his sincere apologies, and get out into the street, he never could clearly remember. But it is a (act that when he finally found refuge in his room at the hotel, he feelingly remarked to himself: "I wish I had three feet, so I could stand on two of them, and kick myself with the other!" — Lumber Review.