ONLY A BUTTERFLY.

West Coast Times, Issue 3055, 18 January 1879, Page 1 (Supplement)

ONLY A BUTTERFLY.

"Look out, Dick; you're marrying a buHeifly! Very pretty; gauzy wings are hers, I grant you, but they're only fit for the sunshine.?' v " And heaven grant the sunshine only may they know!" answered Dick Maynard to hia friend Riger Gresham, as they sauntered arm-in-arm along the path to the church on his wedding day. Sorely it looked a? though Florence Maynard's lot had indeed fallen in pleasant plaoea. It was her own bom 9 she entered after her wedding trip, furnished throughout by un indu'gent father, and the deed of tbe house her husband's gift to her. To fxpress a wich was, with her, to bring ita fulfilment. Wuat wonder she knew not that poverty and misery existed — that sbe dreamed not winter's obill could blast summer's hope 1 A whole y*ar passed away-r-a year bo bright, so happy, that bhe could scarce recall one clouded hour. It had been a gay whirl of sooiety the young couple had entered. There bad been lit' le time f>r them to gain a truer insight into each other's natures than in fcbeir brief weeks of oonrtship ; but was it imagination solely which seemed lately to bring a frown on Dick Maynard's brow — a frown of anxious thought— and round hia month lines of aox ; ouß care." h We must give a party, Dick," said the young wife one morning, as her bu9band was about to set out on the business rontine of the day. •• We have not yet given a bona fide party, and it is naturally expected of us, bo I have made all tho necessary arrangements." D ok looked serious. "Times are pretty hard just now, pet," be answered. " Tbe stoutest houses are tottering. Another failure to-day, Fiorrio. Darling, don't let us give > this party juat ■ now." ■ ■ ' .•■■■-. „•.•; • ;: " I verily believe, Diok, you are -insane. What' have other people's failures to do . ■ , 1 '.- :■■■;...-■■ i ■1- : i v

with us?' Besides, my invitations are alreidv in tho engraver's Vifmijs. It is too> bad of you to worry me in this manner !"■■ ' And bo, with a pout and a tear the young wife won her way. ' . • ] " Was it not worth winning ?" she masked ! herself a fortnight later, as she stood in the ■ brilliantly-lighted drawing-room, the incence'. of flowers miogling with tbe crash of musio, and beautiful women lending; witohery to the scene. ; Everything was a success .in its • moat nnequivooal terms, and the flash of gratified pride, was on ; her. cheek, its sparkle; in her eyes, as alone for the moment B.he drew the cnrtaiuß of the ajcovnd window before, her biding place, to enj ),y>her triumph.. .. ■ Sudlenly voices. araoie her. ear. Two gentlemen were talking earnestly, and in ;one of them she recognised ' Mr. Gtesham^ her husband's friend. . Ths; other. wa3 ; a, stranger, but a-man well advanced, in. years; ; " What baa tempted youbg, Maynard,'' he ; said, " to make this, display at this time? ; It is suicidal. Do you not know has, aske.l time upon', this paper? To my.knowledgej two firms have determined to ref nse ' it, sayinc; his s»yle of living will hot admit of : the iadulgenoe." / ■'.','■'-.■'. " Hu^h ! Not so loud," said tho other,. . V Poor Dick ! He is not to blame. ! When . men marry butterflies they, must- accept the . ponsequences." ' '/ •'.•"■'.'..' '' Had the lights paled, the flowers lost their' , fragrance, tbe music beconie discord ? ; -i ' • Once more through the tastefully arranged, rooms Mrs. Miynard moved with graoeful ease. Her guests noted no pallor in' heir cheek, no tremour in her voice ; and Roger, Gresham wondered greatly at tho whispered request with wh'ch she met him when' he jwent to bid his hostess good-evening. " Will you call on me for a few moments t in the morning, Mr. Greerhnm ?" she said, : almost humbly— a request to which he gats ready though wondering assent. It was noon when the servant admitted him, tbe following day, into Majnard'a ; dainty boudoir, and in a few moments ehe entered. • He could net help glancing admiringly at the exquisitely-rounded figure, the deli- . oately tinted skin, the perfect taste of the ■ toilet, and acknowledging his friend had had i some. justification in hia choice. < ri.-.-l " I' sent for yon, Mr. GrosharOj" Bftid^the ■:; sweet musioat voice, "to say that I overrM heard a conversation which took place last J evening, when you spoke of serious trouble • threatening my .buaband—^a trouble I had., aojelerated by the reception I. insisted upon,giving. Will you be kiad enough to tell me how f»r this is true ?" ■•.■■■.-. " In it p }S6ible you do not kaow of it, Mrs. Maynard?" ■'",,.. : 1 : "I know nothing. D:ck a3ked metogiye^ up this party, and I refuse i, not realising , its neoessity. Even butterflies, Mr. Gres- U ham, can sometimes shed their painted : , wings. If I can help my huabftud, I wish., to do 50.",. A new admiration grew in the man's, eyes as .he realised that he h*& known naught • of the brave young spirit which dwelt .in' 1 ., so fair, a shrine — the true woman, whioh tha first breath of adversity roused from her dormant state into such earnest help- , ing. ,' -. . . .• '" „ . ' ■■; ■' "I have this house," she continued. "I. will pladly give' it up as eeonrity for the time for my husband's needs. Wtth^ him. I could be happy anywhere. How selfish T'' have been not to have watched the signs of trouble growing in bis dear face I" arid t almoßt a siuh crept into the brave young ' voice. " Will you not persuade him, Mr';'. ' Greßham, to aooept it ? Or, better yet, 'will I.',1 .', you not arrange it without his knowledge?.; He has done so much forjoae. Let me^do^ this for him." " Come ml" called out a tired voice, aa : ; Dick, a few weebr later, 'sat alone in his '■'■ library, and a faintknook cima at the door; ; 'i He glanced surpri^edly a3 his ' wifa enteredl^ "Up yet, dear ? D>> you know how late it'is?"- ' : ■- ■• "' ■ . •■ ; ■„-'■. " I oouM not sleep knowing you were sitting up. Besides, Diok, I^l saw -suchi a ;; ' dear little pluca to-day— a tiny cottage .'I the country, just near enongh for you' to jj come in town every day. Would' you '■ mind it very, very maoh if we went there to v live?" ' • ■ ' :-:^'> ' : My darling, what do you meau ?" • r.-.'u«> " Dick, you gave me this house for alLmy , - own, to do with it as I .pleased, did .you; f not?" . " ; .-, ;, .':. '. ;1 :u la "Your very own." • . •:•:« " Well, why , don't you guess ? Why -jio (0 you make me tell you ? I have given it up> ;-, Diok, to take off part of the load which, is .'. weighing you down, and we are going, into;: the country, you and I, to live among the birds and flowers ; and, if necessary, darling,^ . Iwill broil yonr beefsteak and-^-" , ; But kisses choked back the'wordfl as her ;t knsband caught her in his, arm? and mined, them on her lips, and the, cheeks, wet with H his tears, bb well as hers. . ; ■ . - ;i ,Two years had 'left little trace onFlor-"^ eiioe Maynard'a fresh beauty, as she i s,at '„ one evening awaiting her hu3band'B..'re- ,^. turn. " ' - >'-„. -i\ No lines of care are now on his bro'v a?,'., { entering, he bends to give her his kiss of .'^ greeting ; but bis voice trembles as be takes a folded packet and places it in her hands'," Bavins; — ""Darling, your home is yours again, ana my business horizon once more undlouded. My wife, it is all your noble work— you who - have tided me through the storm which threatened to engulf me— ' ' But a' soft, warm band covered his mortth, as Florence whispered — "No true woman oohld do less, Dick, "... sinoe her husband's happiness is hers— his honour hers — even the name Bhe bears ; and , a man who marries, as he supposes, a but- , teifly, would do well to let her prove her womanhood is none, the less, even if her wings be fair and frail." .

THE TWO ROSES. Two ros°s ono« in my garden grew : . ' ' ■ .' . •.> The one was brilliant and rich of hao; ; ..-,,,; Proud of her beauty and perfaine rate, , . .;> She spread her sweets to each passing air: ' ' •'"' The oihar. timil and chaste of mind, ■■■'■■ '■■ ".ii Shrank frcm the kiss of the fickle wind ; • .•,<.* Proud iii \h* pride oV her virtue meek, , f) She veiled the blush "on her modest cheek. Dazed with the glare of h-firgaudyblooin, ' ■' "■' Drunk with the breath of her rieh'perfurae, ; ; --- 1 tended the one with ceaoeless care ; . . - • mo I m irked the pnmh of each beauty rare, And drearoed'that all on some future day, ,' r "Would own th« power of her pi.-erless sway." • w " ' At length my flowor, that I loved the best, '„.; . * •:..!> I sou.ht to take and weHr on my breast, ■;:-{ That won from her parent, stem to part-, ■" ■ ,' Bhe raght rn»t awhile on ray laving heart. J ' ' Bat flown was lure of her witotftif? spell, At fluttering to eartn her petrtls fell ; ... Her heart wus rotten and dead at the core— ,:...■ And I knew that my foolish drenm was o'er. I saw how poor the full blowa blaze ' .'. ','-' that hid oharmed my senses and won my praise; • - And I thought at last of tha timid flower ■ ' Whioh had fined unheeded for cnoliug shower, , „ ,,; But drought unatackeri had her lifespring dried ; • ,-. So, fading anil faded, she drtfoped and died. """'<» X saw too now, with awakening eyes, : -.:>'■'s< How near I hai been tomy longed-for;prize ;-'. • ■ v One-half o the care I hid spent in /vain— 5>5 > . i« ■: Care ihu bad brought me but grief and pain— , If opeut on the r.ise thit had pined away, Would have reared a flower so ohastly gay, ' That the joy o-its countess charms untold] -r „« My oaj;e ha t repaid a thousand fold. . ,;.<>' , Ah; liowofiin thn toil and b< rife, .• ■ > I- ■* v .' Tlie chances uhd changes which \vn call life, By s'iglH»niii>eg!ect tn/tim'q of need, - X'J Wj kill the fKiwer, and we 1 rear the weed ; : - ■■ I* , Then we see ii, and know too late, : : Y;yi ■Win blaipeuot ojirselyee^utciivsaour fatg, ! '„,., . F -W n * boracehnve we ori tth'ch' to leßii,' ' ■'■■'•'" When weknow wbat we long for rnight'havo been\ uH : i . ■'..•.. .:.• ,; •..; ;. :vi i-.,- >. •.'/.", ":h'.:j J u'.Ov