Short Show.

Lake County Press, Issue 2158, 28 February 1907, Page 7

Short Show.

THE ROSES. There were three ef them, leisurely sipping their afternoon tea in a pretty little room, whose warm air was perfumed with roses and moist with tho steam from the singular kotno of the samovar. The hostess was a fair,’ girlish hride in her early twenties, and her guests just rounding the next mile-stone, but still young story.° ne ° f tließ ° Was tellin S tbo

Your roses remind me,’ she said, poising her slender spoon across the quaint Hat cup of shining Bel leek ware,-* ii was last year, when I whs abroad, amt, oh, so homesick ! The remnants of a slight attack of Roman Jever still clung to mo, and I was low in every way,—pulse, temperature, appetite, and spirits. Fred would not he able ° f mo f° r nearly two months ye , und those months seemed centuries, stretehmg out dully between myself and happiness.

4 Iho good Madame of our pension was very kind, and Jlried vainly to tempt my languid palato with her daintiest dishes, but I was .too gloomy and distraite to oat them, and too cross, 1 fear, to bo properly grateful.

4 One day, as I lay on my couch, believing myself almost weary of life, my maid brought mo a dainty white box, long and narrow.

4 From whom?’ I asked, listlessly. 4 There is no carte, madamo ; a garcon brought it.’

4 I opened it, to find a rose, —just ono, —pure aud waxen white ; the most perfect, most fragrant of its kind. Something about it made mo Hunk of home, —of love, —of Fred.

4 It brought tho tears to my eyes, and gave me tho first thrill of life and pleasure I had felt for weeks.

4 I have received quantities of flowers in my day, and most have given me pleasure, but tho state I was tlmn iu.made me difficult to • please. A sof* bouquet, all lacepaper and tin-foil, 1 would have flung into tho fire; a mass of blossoms that required arranging would have made mo weak and weary ; hut that one rose was so sweet, so satisfying, so restful, it seemed like tho kiss of a lover La a strange laud. 4 The next day, to my added surprise, tho same thing happened again ; but now tho rose was of a deeper, more creamy hue, though quite as perfect,—a Venus among roses!

4 1 had not expected another, aud it roused mo from my languor. ‘Whowasiuy unknown friend? Would I receive one to-morrow ?

4 In this fresh oecossion of interest I arose, dressed myself, and actually ate some dejeuner. 4 Yes, next day brought the rose again, but—it could not bo mere fancy—my queenblossooi now had a soupcon of color—was it yellow, or pink ? Tho shade was so vague, bo delicate, so exquisite, I could not namo it: as well try to define tho hue of a baby’s flesh.

4 By this time I was thoroughly aroused. I went for a drive, that day, and woke with a fresh feeling, the next morning, and tho happy thought, 4 Will my ro<o come today? and what color ♦ill it bear, this time ?’

4 Yes, it oamo, and now I could plainly see that it was not yellow, but tho palest flesh tint. And so each day brought one, tho hist always deeper by an almost imperceptible shading, until in time I held in my eager Angers a rose which was all one pink blush, warm and delicious. 4 Was this the climax ? Had I reached tho end? And what, what did it all moan? 4 1 felt my cheeks grow as pink as tho rose I held while I wondered thus; then, half asnnmed, but ail aglow with strange pleasure, I sprung to my feet, eager again for life and its joys, anxious to consult my mirror and see if illness had left mo but a wreck of a woman.

* Well, I was not so bad, what with the the blush and my brightening eves ; and that day I took my maid, and shopped as I had not in weeks.

‘ You see, I had found an interest in life again. This daily gift was like a picture or a poem, growing in beauty before my eyes; yes, a love-poem—and at that I paused, ‘ Was that what it all meant? Were my roses daily changing from cold white to this vivid blush, intended to convey the story of a love which must not bo expressed in words? If so, had I—Fred’s wife—any right to them? Aud who was tho giver ? ‘ Really, my dears, it was a delicate question. I put it by, aud waited. *By this time a good part of my first month —my fiist century —was over, and I wondered how tho time had fled so rapidly. If the roses should cease, now—but they didn't. Daily the long box was laid in my hand, daily the tint glided, by faint gradations, from pink to carmine—from carmine to tho deepest damask, —tho rich, warm hue of passion undisguised, unchecked. • I was now quite well, aud cheerfully busy sight-seeing, the days going by all too quickly for the things 1 wished to do aud when a telegram came from Fred that same morning, announcing his arrival at Havre, I was shocked to find I did not feel that delirium of joy I should have felt—and would two months ago. ‘ What ailed me ? Was I falling in love ? But one can’t love an abstraction, and I had never received a word, a hint, a glance, to suggest the unknown donor of the roses.’

She stopped, and tho bride, who had for gome time evidently forgotten her tea, and Bitting rapt, tho egg-shell cup held poised in her lingers, now loosed her slight hold and let it slide to tho floor, whore it shattered with a sharp crash against tho brass claw of the tea-slaud. Hhc stooped to pick up the fragments, and her face Hushed aud paled as she rose, but it was the other of the trio who cried out, impatiently,-- ‘ Well, go on! What next?’ •There is no -‘next.’ Tho roses ceased from that day, as abiuptly as they begun, and Fred came the next. I was delighted to see him, of course, aud charmed ,to return to ray native land; but, alas, my roseromance was ended and was still a mystery.’ She rose, and drew up her dainty wrap. * Well,’ she said, with a sigh, ‘1 must tgo. Como, Annie, there’s Mrs. Luxmore's dinner ; but she furtively watched them down the steps with au air of repressed excitement.

J Ai their foot they met the young master of *)io house, who greeted them with frank cordiality, handed them into the waitinz carriage, lifted his hat, and turned back towards the house. Two eager hands seized him at the door, ai.d drew him into the privacy of the little tea-room, fragrant with its rose-bowls and its gently streaming beverage : and two tearful eyes gazed into his own. * Will,’ said the choked voioo oi his pretty wife ‘ I’ve found out who received all those rosea we’ve wondered about so oftou, —those you ordered sent me in Paris before wo were married, you know. The stupid florists seut them to the wrong pension—to a lady; and she— she—she’s in love with you !’ * VVith me? Impossible I She cau’thavo the remotest idea who I am. i did not give even the florist my name.’ , •No, but—oh, Will.it breaks my heart! • Crood heavens, darling, this Is absurd}! Who is the woman, anyhow r’ • i’ll never tell you,—never!' ‘Well don’t, then ; but’—laughing grimly ‘if she doesn’t kno 1 ” me, uor I'her, how Cft "oh I know, deat, I know-you can’t! And besides, I trust you fally,-perfectly; hut oh, can’t you seei’ She has my roses, my romance, my poem, my

‘ Not your husband, lore. You still have me.’

4 Oh, I suppose so, but’ with a fresh burst of sobs— ‘ it’s too, too bitter I’ ‘ Really, my dear, your language is a trifle ambiguous.’

4 Hush, Will! Don’t add to my despair. I’ll trv—yes, I will try to be reconciled, only She threw herself into his arms, and neither finished the sentence. In fact, they avoid tho subject as one uvoids some treacherous quicksand; they avoid roses, too, and the little brldo’s hems is no longer abloom with them, while the pretty story-teller of that afternoon wonders* vainly why she has received the cold shoulder or its mistress. Alas, alas for these life-tangles,—so droll, so sad, and so inexplicable 1 Where and when shall they bo straightened ? Fannie E. Newberry.