I *& V* ^^B^ k ASHES OF ROSES ASHES OF ROSES. BY LOUISE KNIGHT WHEATLEY NEW YORK DODD, MEAD & COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1893 BY DODD, MEAD & COMPANY All rights reserved CONTENTS. PAGE I. UNCLE JOHN'S SUCCESS, ... i II. A MORNING OF RETROSPECTION, . . 40 III. THE DAYS Go BY 67 IV. A STORY OF THE PAST, . . .94 V. A SIMPLE SERVICE, .... 129 VI. MY SECRET 173 v 17821G5 ASHES OF ROSES UNCLE JOHN S SUCCESS "T ET'S go!" said Uncle John, with L/ sudden enthusiasm, tossing his ci- gar over the piazza-rail into the tangle of honeysuckle vines below. No wonder we both looked up in sur- prise as this most unexpected bit of ani- mation broke the long lazy silence that had somehow taken possession of our lit- tle group. The cigar glowed for a mo- ment in the darkness, then smouldered ignominiously and went out. Would my uncle's new-born enthusiasm meet with the same untimely end? Not so. He had actually risen to do justice to the occasion, thrust both hands Ashes of Roses deep into his pockets and squared himself about to meet the opposing forces. "Let's go," he repeated. "That's what I say, my dear. I've wanted to go all along, but didn't like to mention it! And here's my poor little lady-bird wast- ing her sweetness on two old folks like us, and sitting quietly at home with lamb- like resignation, when she's dying all the time to get out in the world and break a heart or two, just to keep her hand in!" "Nonsense!" laughed Aunt Kate. "She isn't dying to do any such thing. I'm sure she is quite contented and happy as she is. Aren't you, child?" Whereupon the "child," otherwise " lady-bird " otherwise myself, dear read- er, returned a dutiful " Oh yes indeed, Auntie!" into which she strove to infuse the proper amount of warm and cheerful acquiescence. " That's all right," went on Uncle John with that dogged persistence which I find the best of men sometimes develop unex- pectedly when occasion demands. " Ruth may be very contented and happy, my Uncle John's Success dear, but that is no reason why she should not enjoy attending Mrs. Mitchell's party just the same. We've not taken her out once since she came, and I think she ought to go, that's what I think about it!" Whereupon Ruth made up her small mind then and there that Uncle John certainly was the very best, nicest, dar- lingest Uncle in the whole world, and she always knew it. But she said nothing oh wonder of wonders! For once in her life, at least, she had the good sense to keep quiet, though I won't deny that she clasped her hands rather nervously to- gether under cover of the friendly dark- ness. But Aunt Kate was not prone to fly to pieces as I was, at the mere prospect of a "party." She only relieved her feelings by a well-bred shudder, and remarked that one met such dreadfully mixed people at parties in these western towns, and she was sure Ruth would not enjoy the con- tact at all, brought up as she had been. "That's just it!" broke in Uncle John. " That's the only trouble with Ruth she Ashes of Roses hasn't been brought up like other girls. Now she has come west, let her see a lit- tle of the world and of people, and get her eyes open. It will do her lots of good." " I doubt it. Young girls shouldn't go out in the world too soon." "By Jove, Kate, how you do talk! You don't want her to be a child all her life, I hope? and that's what she will be, at this rate. With her father's peculiar ideas " "Hush, John!" said my aunt, hastily. " Be careful, dear. Of course we will go if you wish it so much drop in for a few moments, perhaps, and come home early. It won't take me long to get ready, and as for you, Ruth, the dress you have on will be quite nice enough, I think. Run upstairs and smooth your hair and get your hat and a clean handkerchief." I needed no second bidding, but went skipping up the broad, dimly-lighted stairway, wild with joy. For I was only seventeen, then, and the magic name of " party " still had the power to thrill one Uncle John's Success with delightful tremors and misgivings, and make my silly little heart beat like a trip-hammer. How nice it was to be through school at last, and a full-fledged young lady "out in society"! Alas! poor foolish damsel, puffed up by the weight of her seventeen years. She must have had very nearly as clear and comprehensive an idea of society about that time, as the yellow-feathered chicken who pecks his way from his shell into the great world beyond, and proudly hops about on his two shaky little legs, happy in the belief that he knows it all ! But I had to admit as I stood before the glass that night, hurriedly giving my hair the required smoothing, that it was a provokingly childish face that smiled back at me from the big mirror. "Will you never grow up, you little goose?" I cried, vindictively shaking my brush at the offending image, all my high and exalted visions vanishing into thin air. "Will you never get so old that people will stop telling you not to forget a clean pocket-handkerchief, and to be Ashes of Roses sure to remember your prayers every night? Good gracious! When I'm mar- ried I'll never even mention pocket-hand- kerchiefs to my children as long as I live, bless their little hearts!" with which phil- anthropic resolution for the peace of mind of future generations, I caught up fan, gloves and shawl, blew out the light with conscientious care, and flew down- stairs to join my respected relatives. We had to wait some time for Auntie, but when she did appear at last, in her trailing gray gown I thought I never saw her looking prettier, and I couldn't help breaking off a spray of honeysuckle and kissing her softly as I fastened it in the lace at her throat. She was so tall and beautiful and pale, dear Aunt Kate, and I did admire her so thoroughly ! proba- bly because she was so complete a con- trast to myself in every way. As we stepped from the shadowy depths of the piazza, into the moonlight it seemed almost like a transition into another world. The streets were well-filled with pedestrians, for it was not yet nine o'clock, 6 Uncle John's Success and as we three, arm-in-arm, sauntered leisurely in the direction of the residence of our hostess, we met many of Uncle's friends who bowed and half stopped for an instant to cast a second glance at pretty Aunt Kate in her shimmering gray dress. It was a lovely walk, and I so enjoyed hanging on Uncle's arm and chattering sense or nonsense as the fancy took me, that I was almost sorry when we reached our destination. It was not far dis- tances are not great in Prairie City and fifteen minutes from the time we left the house we were in the brilliantly-lighted parlour, shaking hands with the gracious, faultlessly-gowned hostess who had rus- tled forward to greet us. The lights and music and laughter were a little confusing at first, and in spite of my boasted seventeen years I felt uncommonly shy and childish, somehow, as I looked over that sea of smiling, be- wildering faces. To begin with, it was almost my first real, " grown-up " party, and as if that were not enough, I had been in Prairie City so short a time that Ashes of Roses everyone in the room was a stranger to me. The ordeal of an introduction was necessarily a trying one, but it did come to an end after a while, and after making the round of the two parlours, western fashion, I found myself landed at last on a certain green sofa in an obscure corner of the room. As I glanced about me, trying to re- cover breath and composure by plying my small pink fan industriously, I spied Auntie, tall and graceful, the centre of an admiring group, while Uncle seemed to be devoting himself to a young brunette in yellow who was laughing incessantly and rather more loudly, I thought, than was strictly necessary. Everyone looked happy and animated, and the music strik- ing up just then, the solid mass of hu- manity dissolved into floating particles of light and colour. It was a pretty scene, and I watched it very contentedly until an appalling thought struck me, and I gazed at the white programme dangling from my finger in undisguised consternation. Here it Uncle John's Success was half-past nine, the dancing well be- gun, and my poor card as serenely chaste and unsullied as when it was given to me! I groaned aloud, and indeed was not the prospect of becoming a full-fledged wall-flower well calculated to strike terror into the soul of any ex-schoolgirl of seven- teen? Twelve numbers! Was I doomed to sit through them all, on that identical green sofa, with my head, like Mr. Jelly- by's, against the wall! I think my horror-stricken eyes must have interpreted my thoughts, for a lady on the other end of the long sofa a sweet- faced lady, by the way, whom I had not noticed before leaned forward and said pleasantly, though with a smile lurking on her lips, " I fear you have not taken advantage of your privilege, Miss Edwards?" "What privilege?" I returned, rather perplexed. " Why this is a Leap-year affair, you know," she explained, "and the ladies are expected to ask the gentlemen to dance. A nice idea, is it not?" Ashes of Roses "Oh, very nice!" I echoed forlornly. " Almost the nicest thing I ever heard of!" And then we both laughed. "You see," I confessed, she had such kind eyes I couldn't help telling her " I suppose it is a nice idea for the people who are very well acquainted, but when you have only been in the town a week, and you don't know anybody, and any- body doesn't know you " I grew a little confused, but wound up bravely " why then it's different, you see!" "Yes, I see," she said. "It isn't quite so nice then, I dare say. But after all you needn't mind, for I'm sure the young men will be only too glad to dance with you." "Oh, do you think so?" I cried grate- fully. " I am ever so much obliged to you, truly! I just wish you were a man, and I'd ask you this minute! But the the real ones, you know, seem so stiff and dreadful, somehow, and besides I don't know a single name, not one!" I finished triumphantly. Uncle John's Success " I thought I saw Mrs. Mitchell intro- duce you ?" "Oh, I've met them all," I returned, sweepingly, " but there were so many and we went around so fast, that I forgot the names right off." " Perhaps I can assist you there, how- ever. Do you see that young man by the window with his hand on a chair? His name is Mr. Sessions, a very good dancer, I can assure you, and rather a stranger here, too. Suppose you try him?" I shook my head. "No," said I. "I don't want him. He may be very nice, but his hair is too slippery and his shirt humps just awfully in front. I wish somebody would tell him about it." " I see you are as particular as most young ladies of your age," she laughed. " Well, pick out someone to suit yourself, then, only make haste, for if you don't, all the best ones will be gone, and I'll predict for you a most desperately stupid evening." Who could resist any longer u,nd?r such Ashes of Roses pressure, combined as it was with the alluring strains of a Strauss waltz? I sat for an instant impatiently tapping the floor with my foot, keeping time, as in- deed all my pulses were, to the rhythm of sound, and then "I'll do it!" said I, with the courage born of despair. " I might as well suc- cumb first as last, I suppose and to tell the truth I just can't sit and listen to that divine waltz another minute. There! It has stopped, and I have the whole room- ful of men to choose from, for the next." I rose and stood hesitating. " Just wait till ah, I think I have dis- covered the victim at last, that old gen- tleman in the corner there, with the white hair. He's an elegant dancer, for I no- ticed him a few moments ago, and he's so old I shan't mind asking him a bit. He'll be a good one to start with, don't you think, just to practise on, and learn how to do it?" " You mean that tall one with his back to us?" said my companion, turning her head quickly. 12 Uncle John's Success "Yes," I answered. "That's the very one. I have a vague recollection of be- ing presented to him, but can't tell his name to save my life. Who is he?" "His name is Dennington, " said the lady, and she looked at me rather curi- ously, I remembered afterward, as she spoke. " Thanks, " I said, gaily, " many thanks, and I only hope I won't forget it before I get across the room. Now watch me, for I'm going at once, before my courage fails," and with a merry nod and smile, I picked up my fan and started bravely toward the corner where stood my pros- pective victim. But it proved more of an ordeal than I had fancied, for on closer investigation I found him surrounded by a bevy of pretty young girls, all chattering like so many sparrows. I never in my life was afraid of girls before, but for some reason now it was they, and not the old gentleman who made me long to beat an ignominious retreat, back to the old sofa. But I saw that escape was out of the question, at Ashes of Roses that late hour, and without hesitation joined the group with what inward trem- blings no one ever knew! He had his back to rne and did not see, though almost everyone else was staring at the small figure which had suddenly come into their midst. But I had too much pride to falter now. "If you please, sir," I said, rather tim- idly, touching his arm lightly as I spoke, "I don't know very many people here and they said I must ask somebody and I thought you were the oldest one, and wouldn't mind, perhaps, giving me just one dance ?" He turned, and looked down upon me quietly with the kindest of brown eyes but did not answer. "Just one?" I repeated, thinking he did not understand. " I would give you a thousand, little lady, if I had them," he said at last. " But you see my programme ? it is really impossible, "and he turned toward me the tiny card which I saw at a glance was quite full, 14 Uncle John's Success "Ye-es, " I faltered, provoked to feel the blood rush into my cheeks as I looked. "Yes, I see." "I am sorry," he went on, still looking down at me with those gentle eyes. " If you had come but a few moments earlier I think we might have managed it. I am very sorry that I did not know before." " Yes, " said I, raising my drooping head and smiling rather forlornly. " So am I. But you see it took me a good while to make up my mind to come at all!" I wondered as I looked at him what age he could possibly be, for although his hair was white as the driven snow it was wonderfully thick, and just the least bit curly, and his face was still oddly youth- ful, and bronzed to the ruddy freshness of a man accustomed to an outdoor life. The long drooping moustache was white like his hair, as were also his eyebrows, under which shone with a strange richness those velvety eyes, soft as any woman's. How long we might have stood staring at each other I do not know, for he seemed to be regarding me with an equally 15 Ashes of Roses intent interest, but the opening notes of the next dance interrupted us, and with a few murmured apologies I beat a hasty retreat back to the old sofa. There I re- seated myself, fervently wishing that I had never left it, but determined to play the role of wall-flower as gracefully as possible during the remainder of the even- ing. But the fates had decreed otherwise, and for some unexplained reason I soon found myself surrounded suddenly by a number of young men, who said, very kindly, that they knew it was against the rules of the evening, but seeing that I was a stranger here, etc., etc. It was ever so good in them, and of course I was only too delighted to see my poor empty card pass quickly from hand to hand, and those wonderful ball-room hieroglyphics rain down upon it. When it again reached me, with every dance taken, a handsome young military officer gave me his arm and in a moment more, oh, bliss! oh rapture! we were actually dancing! 16 Uncle John's Success Of course that was only the beginning of my joy. Dance followed dance in quick succession, and I was supremely happy. At the end of the sixth number I was standing alone by the open window, my partner having left to hunt up my lost fan, when I heard a quiet step behind me and turned to see Mr. Dennington ap- proaching. " Ah, I have found you at last," he said, gaily. " I was almost afraid that those twinkling little slippers had floated you out of some convenient window, and away from us altogether." "No indeed!" I returned, as gaily as he. " I am here yet, you see, one hundred and twelve good substantial pounds of me!" How very tall he seemed, as he stood beside me! "Excellent!" he said laughing. "I never should have guessed it! However, before that partner of yours returns, Miss Edwards, I have a favour to ask." He turned his programme toward me and I saw that the name after the 8th 17 dance, a mysterious Miss M , had been crossed out since I saw it last. " I have slipped out of it, you see," he went on, "don't ask me how, for I hardly know*myself. It requiring some manoeu- vring, I can assure you, but I think the end was accomplished without offending the good lady in the least. So my con- science is clear, and I have hastened to show you the result of my labours." "Ever so good of you," I rejoined po- litely. "But why did you do it? Isn't she a good dancer?" He gave me a quick glance. "One of the best in the room," he re- plied shortly. " Not pretty, perhaps ?" I suggested, hopefully. " On the contrary, she is extremely so." I stared at him with all my might and then it suddenly occurred to me that I had been very, very stupid. Oh, for some of the dear old boy-and-girl frolics, when the boys just said, " Come on, Ruthie!" and whirled me off without ceremony! Was grown-up society all like this, full of 18 Uncle John's Success traps and pitfalls for the unwary ? And if so, why in the world had no one ever told me? But Mr. Dennington was speaking, and something in his voice told me that he understood my embarrassment. "You will give the dance to me, per- haps?" he said, gently. I handed him my card without a word, and he ran his finger quickly down the list. " It seems to be taken," he said. "Yes," I answered, mournfully. "It's of no use, you see." " But I'm not so sure of that. Who is this H. W. if it's a fair question ?" "I'm sure I don't know!" I returned, my spirits rising so far as to enable me to look at him for the first time since my un- lucky blunder. " When the dance begins, the man who corresponds to those initials will appear, and I shall dance with him. That is all I have to do, you see, and it saves me ever so much worry. " "Then I don't suppose you would break your heart, exactly, if you shouldn't dance 19 Ashes of Roses with him at all as long as he is merely a name to you ?" "Merely a name," I echoed. "And what's in a name!" " But answer me seriously, please. Would you really care?" " Seriously then, since you wish it, I shouldn't care in the least. It doesn't matter at all whom I dance No. 8 with, as long as I dance it with somebody. One's partner is the least important part of the dance, you know." "Oh, unquestionably! And so I am to understand that you would be quite will- ing to give anyone else say me, perhaps this dance which H. W. seems to claim at present?" " If I could do it without offending him?" "Most certainly." " Then I should be quite willing, for I really would like very much to dance with you." " Thank you. That is sufficient. I will make it all right with the gentleman," and without another word he coolly drew his 20 Uncle John's Success pencil through the objectionable initials, wrote his own name above them, placed the card in my hands again, bowed po- litely and was gone! Good gracious! What had I done? He had said he would "make it all right," but could he ? What in the world would Mr. H. W. say, and would he be pugilis- tically inclined ? I glanced furtively about the room, wondering which of the numerous young men the one in question might prove to be, and if he would be so very, very mad ! A youth with auburn locks stood leaning against the mantel-piece, and I shut my eyes and devoutly hoped that he might not turn out to be the one, for if so, I was certain that Mr. Dennington's chances of making it all right were, to say the least, slim ! For to my unsophisticated soul, an engagement to dance was as sacred as the law of the Medes and Per- sians, and I had an overwhelming sense of guilt already. And then I began to wonder why Mr. Dennington had committed a similar Ashes of Roses breach of etiquette, and gone to all that trouble just to get a dance with me. It couldn't be very interesting to him, I thought, to waste his time on a little slip of a girl who might easily have been his daughter, and whose brown head only just reached to his shoulder! But my fan and my partner returning about this time, I stopped troubling my- self with these grave questions, and had soon forgotten them altogether. The next dance but one was No. 8, and sooner than I had thought possible it ar- rived, and with it Mr. Dennington. "I am here, you see," he remarked, rather unnecessarily, I thought, as he offered his arm. "Yes," I said, devoting all my ener- gies toward accommodating my steps to his long ones. " I see you are." "I knew enough," he added, "to write my whole name down on your card in order to insure your remembrance. I didn't care to have you favour me with one of those innocent little stares, and ask like the shop-keepers, 'What name, Uncle John's Success please ?' You observed that, I sup- pose?" " Oh, did you write your whole name ?" I answered. " That was such a splendid idea! I hadn't noticed it," and pulling out my programme I hunted with as much show of interest as I could possibly mus- ter, until I found the name, sure enough, " J. J. Dennington," written in a bold, heavy hand. It will please him, I re- flected, to see that I go to all this trouble, so I looked up triumphantly when I had found it. He did not seem as much charmed, how- ever, by my manifestations of interest as I had anticipated. In fact he scarcely noticed it, but was looking straight ahead of him, and biting his white moustache. "It isn't possible that he's vexed!" I mused, and it turned out that he wasn't, for in a moment he said, pleasantly, " If you are quite ready, shall we begin our dance?" I slipped my fingers at once from his arm, and off we glided into the dreamiest of waltzes. 23 Ashes of Roses It seemed to me that time had stopped, and that I could have danced on and on for ever, floating on the wings of the music straight into heaven itself. But it came to an end at length, as all things must, and I was called down to earth again by the final clashing chords of the musicians. " Oh, how glorious!" I cried, every pulse beating with happiness and excitement. "Wasn't it just fine?" " It was indeed !" he answered, warmly, looking down into my beaming face, so full of innocent delight. But he said nothing more. He merely offered his arm in the old quiet way, and we strolled out into the hall. "Would you dare step out on the piaz- za?" he asked, presently. "I see sev- eral ladies there already, and if I get you a wrap I think there will be no danger of cold." " If you think it quite safe ? we are so warm." " The evening has grown a bit cool, but I think we can safely venture if you are well wrapped up. I will get you a shawl 24 Uncle John's Success in just an instant, if you will excuse me," and no sooner said than done, he had slipped upstairs and returned with a soft fleecy shawl which he said Mrs. Mitchell had given him. Without more ado we stepped from the noisy brilliant hall, with its busy hum of voices, into the cool stillness of a July evening. As he had told me, there were three or four persons already on the piazza, enjoy- ing the moonlight, but we managed to find two chairs in a quiet corner, and seating me in one, he wrapped the shawl carefully over my shoulders. " Are you quite warm ?" he asked. " Perfectly warm ?" "Perfectly, completely, terrifically!" I answered, laughing. " In other words, I am slowly cooking! You will begin to hear me sizzle in a minute." "I have heard of candied rose-leaves," he replied, brushing aside a wisp of my thin pink dress that had somehow floated over the other chair, and seating himself beside me, " but I never knew before that 25 Ashes of Roses this was the process to which the rose was subjected." " It is a cruel one," I returned, heaving a deep sigh, " but think what a proud day it will be for me when I am all baked, and spread out on a tin pan and sold for a dollar and twenty cents a pound!" " And I shall be on the spot to buy you, too, down to the very last petal! Don't forget that. One dollar and twenty cents a pound, and one hundred and twelve pounds, wasn't it ? That would be, let me see " " Oh, don't sit here and do sums on such a night as this!" I exclaimed, trag- ically. " How can you look at that lovely big glorious moon, and think of anything so prosy as arithmetic!" "But I don't like the moon, and I do like arithmetic," he argued. "What then?" "Not like the moon!" I echoed, staring at him in unconcealed dismay, " not like the dear, beautiful moon! And why not, pray ?" "She doesn't seem dear and beautiful 26 Uncle John's Success to me at all. She is cold and far-away, and looks down all night with her big, round eye, never winking or blinking a bit, no matter what trouble or sorrow she sees upon this poor earth of ours." He raised his hand with a sudden ges- ture, and tossed back the heavy white hair from his forehead. As he did so, I caught the quick sparkle of a diamond upon his finger, a lady's ring, evidently. I also noticed that he had moved his chair until he sat quite in the shadow with his elbow on the piazza rail and his head on his hand. I did not know just how to answer him, so I sat quite still, looking at the big dark figure sharply outlined against the moon- lit sky. The night-wind had arisen and murmured drowsily in my ears, and the occasional chirp of a cricket sounded shrilly in the distance. " Did you ever see the moon in the South ?" he asked suddenly, raising his head. "No, sir," said I. " I I believe not. Did you?" " I never saw it anywhere else for the 27 Ashes of Roses first twenty years of my life. Oh, this God-forsaken country !" he added bitterly. " What do you cold Northerners know of beauty, when you have never seen a mid- night in the south, with the moon turning everything as white as day, and the mag- nolia-blossoms making you half drowsy with perfume! You don't understand me, do you ?" for I was still looking at him with wide-open, wondering eyes. " You think I am some poetical old fool who has grow moonstruck, eh ? Well, perhaps I am, perhaps I am. You will forgive me this once, won't you?" His mood seemed to change; he raised his head, and I could see that he was smiling. "You must bear with an old man," he said. " My ideas are like myself, possi- bly; of a past generation." "Well, I don't care if you are of a past generation," I cried, stoutly. "On some accounts, of course, it must be unpleasant to be old, but I like you just exactly as well as if you were younger. Honestly I do!" 28 Uncle John's Success Possibly my reader may have observed that in those days I had a remarkable ten- dency, since overcome, somewhat, to say just exactly what I thought on all occa- sions! "Good! I am delighted to hear it!" He leaned forward, and I could see his dark eyes shining in the moonlight. " So you have made up your mind that you are going to like me?" "Oh yes," said I, leaning back in my own chair contentedly. "It didn't take me long to find that out, you know!" " How long, may I ask ?" " Oh, I have always liked you, I be- lieve. That is how I happened to get up courage to ask you to dance. I liked the back of your head in the first place, it had such a such a benevolent kind of look you understand?" "Oh, perfectly!" " And then by-and-by when you turned your head around, I liked your face, too." "Excellent! Proceed." " And then I like the way you dance, 29 Ashes of Roses so you needn't feel badly at all about be- ing well, sort of elderly, for you are ever so much nicer than if you were just a young man, like everybody else. I can't talk to them," I added, with a compre- hensive, airy gesture which might be un- derstood to include humanity in general, "as I can to you, of course." "Possibly not," said Mr. Dennington, gravely stroking his moustache, " and per- haps, on the whole, it is a fortunate thing. I wouldn't give much for a young man's peace of mind were he in my position. But I am very sorry for them all, poor young fellows! They will never know how much they are missing." . I glanced at him furtively from under my eyelashes, wondering if he were mak- ing fun of me. But no, his face was quite serious. " So you think you are going to like me?" he continued, presently. "I am sure I am delighted to hear it, and very much obliged to you for being so kind. As I have come to the conclusion that I like you, too, suppose we make an agree- so Uncle John's Success ment to become friends without further delay ?" "I'm sure I have no objection," I re- turned, tranquilly, "only it seems to me people usually know each other pretty well before they become friends, and well, we haven't been acquainted so very long, now have we?" It was a most honest appeal, and he could not gainsay it. "Well, no no, I suppose not," he ad- mitted, " not so far as minutes and seconds go, certainly. But I think we have made the most of all the time we've had, and done as much as could reasonably be ex- pected, don't you?" I nodded affably. " And that is an objection which each day will remedy, you know," he con- tinued. " So it ought not to. stand in our way in the least." " No, I dare say not." " Because all friends have to begin to be friends some time," he added, lu- cidly. "Yes," I said. 31 Ashes of Roses Now all this was very agreeable, cer- tainly ! "Do you know," he went on, "we have talked together all this time and you haven't even told me where your home was before you came to our prairie town. You are a stranger here, I am sure ?" "Oh, yes. I have been here just a week to-day, and am visiting my aunt, Mrs. Arnold. You know her, of course ?" "Not very well, I'll admit. Not so well as I hope to, perhaps." " Oh, you must know her!" I exclaimed, enthusiastically. " She is just the dear- est, loveliest Auntie that ever was! She is my papa's favourite sister, you see, and when I happened to write her last winter that I was to finish school in June, she and Uncle sent me an invitation to come out west and spend the whole summer. Wasn't it sweet of them ?" " They certainly, deserve our deepest gratitude." "And so I came," I chattered on, " and here I am, with the prospect of a 32 Uncle John's Success whole beautiful summer before me, and nothing to do but amuse myself." "Which you enjoy, of course?" "Yes, indeed I do, particularly as I studied so hard last winter, and worked day and night, almost." " I should think you must have done so, to finish school so young. You can't be more than a child still." "Oh, it wasn't that. I would have completed the ordinary school course a year ago, but I was working on special branches, which I hope to study still deeper this winter. I I'm going abroad at Christmas," I added, somewhat shyly. "And how delightful that will be!" "Yes. Have you ever been ?" He hesitated an instant. "Yes," he said. "I I have spent several years abroad. But come, tell me how you like Prairie City, as far as you've seen it." It was rather an abrupt change of sub- ject, but of course it mattered little to me what topic we discussed, so I replied very readily : 33 Ashes of Roses " As far as I've seen I like it extremely, but I haven't seen very far yet. Auntie has been half sick ever since I came, so we've not been around very much. But Uncle has a nice pony for me, and we are going to take great long rides every day, when Auntie gets better. Won't that be splendid ?" "I should think so! And may your friends sit on the fence and see you go by?" I shook my head. " No use for I shall fly by so fast, they won't see anything but a cloud of dust! My horse is a beauty and goes like the wind. And this is such a glorious coun- try to ride in, so big and wild and free. It's so different from home." "Yes?" "In Portland, you kow. " " Oh," said Mr. Dennington. " I didn't know, though I could have sworn you were a New England girl." "Why? By my Yankee twang?" " No, indeed," he laughed. " By some- thing far more tangible your name. You 34 Uncle John's Success know we southern people think a good deal of such things, and I know that you have one to be proud of." " Now, how in the world did you know that?" I demanded, leaning forward, eagerly. " Have you heard about us 'way out here?" Mr. Dennington smiled rather quizzi- cally. " I fancy that almost every one has heard of Jonathan Edwards," he said. " You are related to him, no doubt ?" " Oh yes. But you couldn't call him a near relative exactly. It was ever so far back, of course. " " Of course," he said, smiling a little. " I had an idea that it must have been a good while before your time, little lady!" "And my grandmother," I went on. " We are about as proud of her, as we are of Jonathan Edwards; for they say she was a great beauty, and my great- grandmamma, too." "Yes," said Mr. Dennington. "One does not need to be told that." " Well, now why ?" I asked, curiously, 35 Ashes of Roses regarding him with open-eyed wonder. " You never knew her, I suppose ?" " No-o," he admitted, leaning his head upon his hand again, until his face was quite in shadow, " I can't say that I ever had the pleasure of your great-grand- mother's acquaintance." "Of course," I hastened to add, "I mean when you were a little boy. You might have been just a little bit of a boy, you know, when she was an old, old lady, and still have remembered her. Such things happen very often, don't they?" "Oh, frequently!" returned Mr. Den- nington, gravely. " I suppose this must be one of the grand exceptions to the general rule." " Yes, I suppose so. Well, anyway, I have her picture, a lovely picture of her at home, that is at home here you know, painted on ivory. Some time I will show it to you, if you like." " Thank you. I shall be delighted to avail myself " " Our dance, I believe, Miss Edwards ?" said a cold voice in my ear, and looking 36 Uncle John's Success quickly around I saw my bete noir, the auburn-tressed young man bending over my chair. I saw by his face that something had gone wrong, and rose at once. " Has our dance begun ?" I said. "It is almost over," he snapped. "I have been hunting the house for you." "I'm sorry," I said, gently. "I didn't know it, or I would have come in," and handing my shawl to Mr. Dennington, who had also risen, I suffered myself to be led away, my partner not venturing a single remark, but indulging in a most unami- able fit of the sulks during the remainder of the dance. There is but little more to tell of this, my first party. It is needless to state, perhaps, that I enjoyed myself to the very fullest extent, and had I been permitted my own way, would have stayed on, danc- ing, laughing, fluttering my small fan, and sipping frappe in the dark corner un- der the stairs, till the last weary musician had picked up his instrument and stolen silently away. Happily, however, Aunt 37 Ashes of Roses Kate had not abandoned herself to pleas- ure, pure and simple, as recklessly as had her feather-headed little niece, and at a respectably early hour I was torn away, and quietly landed in my own room, be- fore I had fairly awakened from the intox- icating dream of the wonderful "party," now, alas! a thing of the past. " But there will be another, some day or other, you know," laughed Auntie, as she kissed me good-night, " so I think I wouldn't sit staring at the carpet much longer, dearie, but just be a good girl and get into bed as fast as you can, for it's nearly one o'clock." " Yes'm," I replied, dutifully, and then, "Oh, you precious dear!" running at her and treating her to one of my good, old- fashioned " bear-hugs. " " I did have such a good time, I can't stop thinking about it. You are just the darlingest Auntie in the world to let me go!" " Bless the child, she is her mother over again!" she said, letting her hand rest on my hair with tender touch. " I am glad you enjoyed yourself, dear, but we will 38 Uncle John's Success talk about all that to-morrow. Your eyes are as big as saucers now, and you won't get them shut all night, if you don't quiet down a little. So good-night, and you'll go right to bed, won't you?" Half an hour later, I was cosily tucked away in my little white nest, deep in the dreamless sleep of childhood. How could I know that only a few blocks away, in the pitiless glare of the moonlight, a man knelt at his open window all the night through, with his poor white head resting heavily upon his hands! 39 II A MORNING OF RETROSPECTION AT seven precisely the next morning the sun came smiling in at my win- dow lighting up every nook and corner of the room with his genial presence. At the same moment my blue eyes flew open as wide as Nature ever intended them to be, and jumping up, I ran to the window in my little trailing nightdress, and took a sly peep through the half-parted cur- tains. I saw a fresh, smiling world flooded with that wonderful limpid sunshine, of which eastern people cannot conceive, and which western people indifferently accept with the other natural advantages of the country. But I had not been there long enough at that time to become indifferent, too, and it was still a mystery and wonder to me, as each morning I ran to the win- 40 A Morning of Retrospection dow with eastern anxiety, " to see what kind of a day it was," and found each morning the world bathed anew in the molten gold of that perpetual sunshine. How sweet it was! I drew in long de- licious breaths of the fresh summer air, and felt the intoxication of it rushing through every vein. For I was young, then, and still throbbing with the exhilaration of perfect health and boundless vitality. Can you not remember that golden time in your own experience, when life seemed but an endless melody, with which all nature was in tune the echo of the " grand, sweet song" ? Oh, to go back to that springtime once again! To forget the sad awakenings and realisations that the weary years have laid upon drooping shoulders, and to stand, as I stood at the window on that summer morning, long ago, with a heart as innocent and untroubled as that of the tiny sparrow who was chirping his own joy in the garden below! " How good is our dear Father in heaven," I remember thinking gratefully, 41 Ashes of Roses " to put his children into such a glad, bright, beautiful world!" And then I looked out again, far away across the shining earth into that vast- ness of unfathomable blue, beyond, and it seemed as if I grew nearer and nearer to the heart of the Eternal, and that He was looking down into my eyes, and smiling. "Father, I thank Thee," I whispered softly, as to someone very near. And then a great peace fell upon my heart, and I knew that God was there, close, close, beside me! At eight o'clock I went running down- stairs into the breakfast-room, trilling the gayest of songs. It was one of the most pleasant rooms in the house, with the sun streaming in across the ferns and delicate vines that ornamented the two broad window-seats, gleaming on the snowy tablecloth and turning the cut glass into a thousand rain- bows and the breakfast service into molten silver. The furniture and woodwork 42 A Morning of Retrospection were of oak, in contrast to which, and each setting off the other, rich Buchara rugs glowed ruby-red on the polished floor. My uncle was quietly ensconced in a big arm-chair, enjoying the luxury of a sunbath combined with the morning pa- per. I stopped in the doorway, hesitat- ing, but I did not stay there long. He threw down his paper, and held out his dear old arms, into which I crept in an instant. " Here's my little girl at last," he said, tenderly, stroking my cheek, " as fresh and sweet as a June rose! Do you know, dear, that you grow more like your mother every day ?" "Oh, I'm so glad," I cried, the quick tears springing to my eyes. " It is so lovely of you to say that I look like mam- ma, and you don't know how happy it makes me feel. But but she was so beautiful, you know I never could be as pretty as my mamma, could I ?" "No," said Uncle John, gently. "No one could ever be that, dear. When she 43 Ashes of Roses was your age I used to think that she was the loveliest little creature that God ever made and I don't believe I was far from right." "Of course not. But did you really know her when she was a little girl, like me?" " Bless you, yes! And was head over heels in love with her, too." "How funny! I never supposed you knew her at all till after you married Auntie." "Oh, yes. We all grew up together in New York. I was somewhat older than the rest, but Aunt Kate and your mamma were just of an age, and inseparable, al- ways. And I was always tagging after them, hardly knowing myself which one I cared for the more." "And mamma wouldn't love you? How queer!" "Was rather odd, wasn't it? But you should have seen the one she did love in those days, Ruth!" " My papa?" " Yes, When Aunt Kate's handsome 44 A Morning of Retrospection big brother came home from college, that was the end of me, and everyone else. She never seemed to care for anyone ex- cept him, and no one was at all surprised when they were finally married." "Oh, I'm so glad!" I cried. "I know he was ten hundred times nicer than any of the others! And so handsome, too. Mamma has often told me " But our confidences were put an end to just then by the entrance of Aunt Kate. Breakfast being served almost imme- diately, Uncle and I slipped into our re- spective places, and in a very few minutes had buried all reminiscences completely in our foamy bowls of oatmeal. " How do you feel after the party, Ruth ?" inquired my Aunt, as she lan- guidly poured the coffee. " I must say you don't look very much used up." She herself was clad in the most im- maculate of black and white morning gowns, but was looking unusually pale and tired, I thought. " Oh, I'm not a bit used up," I replied, almost smiling at the bare idea, one feels 45 Ashes of Roses so strong at seventeen ! " I only wish I could go to another one to-night, that's all!" " I am very glad you enjoyed yourself so much," she returned, kindly. "That quite repays me for any sacrifice I might have made in going." "At any rate, your sacrifice was re- warded in some measure," put in her hus- band, winking slyly at me. " I noticed that our high-toned friend the Colonel took special pains to make himself agree- able to you." "Yes," replied Aunt Kate, calmly sip- ping her coffee, " he certainly did. And I must say, my dear, that he can be a very fascinating man when he chooses. Did I tell you that he asked permission to call ?" " I believe not." " I was greatly surprised, and flattered too, I must confess, for it isn't every house that the Colonel honours with his visits. I could mention a number of well- known ladies who have invited him over and over again to call, and still he has 46 A Morning of Retrospection not thought best to accept any of their advances. This I know, John. And then to think that he should single me out, and beg permission to call! Those were his very words, 'beg permission!' ' "Which you granted, of course?" " Of course. I told him I should be delighted to see him at any time. 'Come at any time, Colonel,' I said, and the poor fellow seemed so pleased! I sup- pose he does get lonesome, sometimes." "But I thought you never liked him very well," persisted Uncle John. "I re- member hearing you say more than once that he was the most thoroughly conceited man you ever saw." "Well, but John! Can't you compre- hend the difference ? That was long ago, before I ever knew him. I will admit that he does give strangers the impression of being horribly vain, with that high- and-mighty air of his, and the way he car- ries his head. But with his friends he is not so at all. Really, a more cultivated, polished gentleman I never met, even in the East." Ashes of Roses " Even in the East !" What an admission from those effete lips! Surely, I thought, this colonel, whoever he is, must have made good use of his time. "Well!" said Uncle John. "It beats me to see the way you women have of changing your mind sometimes! Now for my part, I always liked the fellow well enough. He has a good, manly air about him, and you know as well as I that I put in a vote for him last election. But, confound it! I do hate that white hair of his, and I'll admit it! It looks so ridiculous, somehow." "White hair, Uncle?" I piped up at this juncture. I hadn't been paying much at- tention to the conversation before, but those words caught my attention. " Why my man had white hair, too!" "Your man, Ruth?" echoed Uncle John. " And who is your man, my dear, if I might presume to ask ?" "Mr. Dennington," I returned, prompt- ly. "'J. J. Dennington.' That's the way he wrote it on my card. His hair was white, too, as white as anything." 48 A Morning of Retrospection "One and the same," said Uncle, placidly, buttering a roll. " The Colonel and Mr. Dennington are identical, my love." "Why how funny!" I exclaimed. "I talked with him ever so long last night, and he never told me he was a Colonel, or had been voted for, or anything." "You don't say so!" " What was he Colonel of ?" I asked. " Oh, some southern regiment. I don't know," replied Uncle. "He is a Rebel, every inch of him." " You say you talked with him last even- ing, Ruth?" said Aunt Kate. "I didn't know you had ever met him. Did you have a long talk, my dear?" "Oh yes, ever so long! He asked me where my home was, and if I had ever seen the moon before, or something like that and, oh yes! he said he had heard of Jonathan Edwards, too. Wasn't it nice of him! and, well, you see that's how I came to ask him if he had ever known my great-grandmother." "Ruth!" and Aunt Kate set down her 49 Ashes of Roses coffee cup in blank dismay. " You surely didn't ask him that?" "Why yes I did," I insisted. " I told him she was a great beauty once, and he said yes, he knew she must have been, and of course that made me wonder how he could possibly know, also I asked him if he had ever seen her. I'm sure it was only a natural question." " Oh, quite natural !" murmured Uncle John, getting somewhat red in the face, "and, great heavens! how flattered the Colonel must have been!" "I'm sure it was very kind of him to appear interested in Ruth at all," re- marked Aunt Kate, rather severely. " I trust, child, you didn't keep him talking so long as to tire him ?" '' No-o, " after a moment's reflection. " I I guess not, Auntie. He didn't seem tired." " Colonel Dennington is far too well- bred to show it, my love, even if he felt so. I only hope you did not offend him with any of your queer remarks. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I must say 50 A Morning of Retrospection that you certainly do make the most pecu- liar speeches, sometimes! You know men, and particularly southern men are very critical in such matters." I shook my head. " No, Auntie, I didn't say a thing out of the way, I know I didn't. And is he really a southern man ?" " I should say he is!" put in Uncle John. " Is it possible he didn't tell you so? Is it possible he talked with you as much as five whole minutes, and didn't " "My dear!" expostulated Aunt Kate. " Do be quiet. Why shouldn't the man be proud of his ancestors, if he wants to ? I am sure it is quite a relief to meet some one, in this dreadful country, who has any ancestors, anyway! He is from one of the oldest families in the South, Ruth, great land-holders and slave-owners before the war." " I wonder how in the world he hap- pened to drift 'way out here," I remarked, as my thoughts flew back to a certain dim, piazza corner, and I remembered the bit- ter ring in his voice when he had chanced Ashes of Roses to speak to me about " this God-forsaken country." "Ah, that is what nobody knows," re- plied Aunt Kate. " There is some terrible mystery connected with him, we are all quite sure of that, but just what it is no one can find out. All we know is that he sud- denly appeared here one morning about ten years ago, took a suite of rooms at the hotel, and announced that he had come to stay. And there he lives still, all alone except for his dogs and his body- servant, a big negro " "Blacker than the ace of spades!" chimed in Uncle John. " Of course. How else would you have him?" " Oh, I wouldn't have him at all, thank you," promptly returned her better half. " Not as a most gracious gift!" "Well, my dear," Auntie went on, ig- noring the unholy chuckle that followed the last words, and directing her con- versation exclusively to me, " you may not be surprised to hear that about such a man all sorts of rumours are afloat. Not 52 A Morning of Retrospection so many now, of course, as there were at first, for people have grown tired of talk- ing, you know, with really nothing to talk about. He lives very quietly, never gives anyone the least occasion to gossip, but always conducts himself as a perfect gentleman should. His worst enemy can- not deny that." "Has he any enemies?" I cried Oh, the innocence of childhood! " How per- fectly dreadful, Aunt Kate!" "Why of course, my dear. It would be hardly possible fora man of his promi- nence, socially and politically, not to have some enemies. He is bound to have them." " I I suppose so. But he has friends, too, I hope?" " There is not a man in Prairie City who has more friends, or warmer ones. He is generous to a fault, liberal and public- spirited in every way, and his fortune is immense, my dear, simply immense. But, as I told you, there have been queer stories about him. For instance, that hair of his, to which your uncle objects so 53 Ashes of Roses seriously they say that it turned white in a single night." " I wonder why?" "Oh, I'm sure I don't know, some terrible suspense or excitement that he went through with, I suppose. They say " "They say, they say," broke in Uncle John, pushing back his chair, impatiently. " What don't they say, my love? Tell me that, will you! 'They say' he has a per- fujned bath every morning at eight o'clock precisely, though how in thunder they know so much about it however, that's none of my business, I suppose. If you will be good enough to excuse me now, I think I will leave you and Ruth to dissect the Colonel's character to your heart's content. It is nearly nine, and I must be off." Auntie rose at once, and we followed her from the breakfast-room. But I could not dismiss the subject so easily, and sundry harrowing thoughts preyed upon my mind to such an extent that Uncle, who always had wonderfully 54 A Morning of Retrospection quick intuitions where I was concerned, discovered the cloud at once. "What ails my girl?" he asked, as I went to the door with him for my usual good-bye kiss. " I don't like to see such a troubled little face. Has the old Uncle been hurting her feelings?" "No, indeed, you dearest!" I re- sponded, giving a reassuring squeeze to the arm that had somehow by that time slipped around my waist in the old way. "The very idea of such a thing! It's only only I know it's silly but " "Of course it's silly, lady-bird," with the kindest smile in the world, " but never mind that. I shan't care. It's only only what?" " You bad old Uncle ! I have half a mind not to tell you at all, you poke fun at me so! But seriously, I do feel ever so worried, for fear you know " "Yes? For fear?" " That maybe I was naughty last night, after all!" There! I had said it, and was hiding my shame-stricken face on his shoulder. 55 Ashes of Roses " Naughty, Ruth ? How were you naughty, dear?" " Oh, I don't know," I returned, meekly, "I hadn't thought of it before, but when Aunt Kate spoke about my keeping Mr. Col. Dennington talking so long last night and tiring him out, I was afraid afraid perhaps I did, after all. I remem- ber now that I did most of the talking. He must have thought me so forward and and tiresome, you know. But truly I didn't know he was a Colonel and had been voted for, and and so rich, and everything. I didn't, truly, Uncle! I thought he was just an every-day man like anybody else, and oh, dear!" How convenient that shoulder was, to be sure! and just the right height, for Uncle was not a very tall man, not half so tall as Mr. Dennington, I thought, with sudden triumph. " Do you suppose he thought me a dreadful bore?" I wailed. Uncle knew me too well to suspect me of the petty vanity of " fishing" for a com- pliment, so he answered as seriously as I. 56 A Morning of Retrospection " My little Ruth, a bore ? I should say not. If he thought that, he's the first man that ever did, I'll warrant." " Oh, Uncle dear, you are such a com- fort!" I sighed, nestling closer. " Do you truly think so? But then you know I asked him that awful question about my great-grandmother! Oh, dear, how could I? But you see I never thought, he looked like such a very old gentleman," I finished lamely. " How old did you think he was?" " Oh, about sixty or seventy, per- haps. " "You're not far off," chuckled Uncle John ; " not over fifteen or twenty years, I should say! But don't look so con- science-smitten, the Colonel is far too sen- sible a man to take offence at a little thing like that. It's ten to one he has forgot- ten that you ever had a great-grand- mother, and it's five to one that he has forgotten you yourself by this time." " Do you really think so, Uncle ? Oh that is so comforting!" " Of course I think so. So cheer up, 57 Ashes of Roses and kiss me good-bye like a good girl, for I must go." So I raised my crest-fallen head, and never was a kiss given more willingly than the one I bestowed, with the accuracy which a week's practice had brought, upon the exact centre of his gray mous- tache. Dear old Uncle ! I stood on the steps to wave to him as he turned the corner of the street, and then danced upstairs to rejoin Aunt Kate with a heart as light as my flying feet. As we were lounging in her dainty morning-room some hours later, deep in the mysteries of fancy-work, a sudden peal at the bell startled us both, and almost immediately the maid appeared with a bit of pasteboard on her silver tray. Auntie glanced at the name, and then handed the card to me. " Tell the gentleman I will be down at once," she said to the servant, while I re- mained staring at the card. " If you please 'm, he asked for Miss 58 A Morning of Retrospection Edwards, too," ventured the maid. "'Both the ladies,' was what he said." "Of course," returned Auntie ra_ther sharply. " Tell him we will be down di- rectly," and as the servant disappeared, she turned to me with a triumphant smile. " There, Ruth ! You see he has come, after all. And at this hour in the morn- ing, too!" " Is it customary in the West for gentle- men to make morning calls?" I asked, folding away my work. " No," admitted Auntie, " I can't say it is customary, exactly, but it is sometimes done. No doubt it is a southern style, my dear," and hastily smoothing our ruffled plumage, we descended the stairs to receive our unexpected visitor. The halls were broad and sunny, and the sud- den transition into the cool, mysterious depths of the dimly-lighted parlour made us hesitate for a moment on the threshold. I saw a tall figure loom up from some- where in the darkness, I heard again that quiet voice speaking to Aunt Kate, and then, I scarcely knew how, my hand lay 59 Ashes of Roses in another, large and strong, whose fingers closed over mine in a cool, firm clasp. I slipped into the nearest chair, and in another minute Auntie had drawn up a shade, and let a flood of sunshine in upon the scene with many apologies. " I try to keep the house cool these hot days," she explained, sinking gracefully upon the sofa, " and darken the rooms as completely as possible, in consequence. I hope you will not think us inhospitable to give you so uncanny a reception ?" "On the contrary, madam," returned Colonel Dennington, seating himself near Aunt Kate, and placing his hat upon the low table beside him, " on the contrary, madam, you have given me a reception which is charmingly familiar, for in the South we live in darkened houses half the year around, you know." He called it Saouth, I noticed, with a broad accent that made me almost smile, it fell so strangely on northern ears. How stupid of me not to have noticed it the night before! Curled up as I was in a big arm-chair 60 A Morning of Retrospection in the darkest corner of the room, I could watch him as intently as I liked, and not be seen myself. And I made good use of my opportunity, for to tell the truth I had become rather interested in this " Man with a Mystery," and was glad of the chance to study him, at my leisure. But I did not find anything extraordi- nary or exciting to reward me, after all nothing that could be considered in the least " mysterious." I saw simply an or- dinary man, clad in an ordinary gray summer suit, a small carnation glowing in the buttonhole of his coat like a flame. As he chatted with Aunt Kate, he sat leis- urely pulling off the glove from his left hand, which he laid, at length, beside its mate on his knee. There was the ring again, that tiny diamond which had flashed out from ob- livion the night before, a lady's ring, without a doubt. It was a small stone, but remarkably brilliant, and sparkled on his finger like a star. I could see, also, what I had not noticed the night before his rather large chin and under-jaw, 61 Ashes of Roses which gave a look of hard determination to his otherwise gentle face. My ex- perience in character-reading in those days had been rather limited, and yet I made up my mind then and there, that the smiling, low-voiced, calm-faced man, chatting so lightly about the weather and the last new book, had a will of his own, a will that neither man nor time nor cir- cumstances could break. "He would be quiet about it," I re- flected. " He would never storm nor rant he doesn't look that kind. He would just turn icy, and have his way, even if the getting of it wore him out, body and soul!" And then I remember looking at him very intently, and hoping that my will might never be the unlucky one to dash itself against the flint that lay in that tranquil face. His mouth had cold, hard lines about it that I did not like not when he spoke, for then his whole face changed and lighted up but when he was in repose, listening, not thinking of himself. Then it was that these lines ap- 62 A Morning of" Retrospection peared, each one almost imperceptible and yet, combined, they gave a hard ex- pression to the big, square jaw, as if the teeth inside were tightly set. And still he laughed and chatted on, calm, quiet, perfectly self-poised, and still the little girl in the corner nestled back in her arm- chair, and quickly and irrevocably made up her mind in regard to him. He did not confine his attention exclu- sively to Aunt Kate, of course, but turned occasionally, and attempted to draw me into the conversation. But I was rather reticent that morning, and much preferred to sit unnoticed and let the burden of the entertainment fall upon Auntie. I liked to listen to the rich oddly accented voice, which would have proclaimed him a South- erner at the first syllable to any but such inexperienced ears as mine. The truth was that all my life until that time had been quietly spent in Portland and the sur- rounding country, at home and in school, and it had happened, strangely enough, that I had never met a Southern person before, or anyone who spoke with any 63 Ashes of Roses other than my own familiar New England accent. I had lived so sheltered a life, had seen so little of the world and people in general, thanks to the Puritan ideas of my pretty mother, that this new western world and its strange inhabitants were a constant wonder and revelation to my in- nocent soul. So I opened my blue eyes very wide, made a thorough analysis of our visitor in my girlish way and had just about come to the conclusion that in spite of certain afore-mentioned disadvantages I was still going to like him, when he rose to take his leave. " I hope I have not detained you too long ?" he said. " I did not intend making so long a call when I came in and in fact I owe you ladies an apology, I suppose, for the rather unusual hour at which I ap- peared. I have no excuse to offer, I simply took advantage of your very kind permission to call, at the first oppor- tunity." "Oh, don't apologise, Colonel," cried Aunt Kate, into whose cheeks an unusual 64 A Morning of Retrospection colour had risen. " We are only too de- lighted to have had the good fortune to be at home. You must come often, now you have found the way, just drop in morning, afternoon or evening, whenever you feel disposed. We like informality, and you will always find a hearty welcome from both Mr. Arnold and myself." The Colonel expressed himself as deeply honoured, and bowing courteously over our hands, he made his adieux without further delay. As the door closed upon him Auntie hastened out to the kitchen with some important message in regard to luncheon, I suppose, and the next mo- ment I found myself stealing to the win- dow to have a sly peep, through the pro- tecting mist of lace curtains, at the tall figure making its way leisurely down to the gate. He paused, just as I looked, to light a cigar, and as the flame flashed up in his bronzed face, I could not help thinking how handsome he must have been twenty years ago, perhaps, in the first flush of his manhood, when the heavy white hair was brown and curling, and the fire of 65 Ashes of Roses youth and hope shone in those velvety eyes. " I fancy he would love anybody pretty hard, if he loved at all," I mused, watch- ing him out of sight, " and of course he must have been in love ever so many times when he was a young man. I won- der who they were, and if they were very, very pretty!" Idle questionings! Truly worthy of an idle summer's day! And I turned away from the window, with a half smile at my own foolish thoughts. 66 Ill THE DAYS GO BY AND so the days slipped by, all too quickly for the happy little maiden called Ruth, who was enjoying every mo- ment of her visit in that land of perpetual sunshine. From the time she opened her eyes in the morning upon the fresh, new-created world, fragrant with the soft breath of the prairie breeze, until she laid her head upon her pillow at night, too tired to dream, she was radiantly happy. To be sure, those were quiet days dull, some might have called them, but full of those sweet, restful pleasures that glad- den the heart without bringing in their train heavy eyes, pale cheeks, and throb- bing heads. There were the daily drives with Auntie behind the sleek pony, when we exchanged all sorts of delightful fem- inine confidences and the walks with 67 Ashes of Roses Uncle John, in the cool of the evening, leaning contentedly on his arm, and pick- ing up the pearls and rubies of superior wisdom that fell from his lips (occasion- ally letting fall a few myself, to his intense edification and amusement), and the vari- ous tea-parties and garden-parties, and sociables and concerts, and chatty little calls upon our neighbours' wives and daughters and above all, those white- winged messengers of love that came daily from the dear ones in the far-off East these were among our pleasures. And then, not least of all, were the cosy evenings at home, when half a dozen friends would drop in to pay their respects to Auntie, and smoke a cigar with Uncle John, young men, mostly, with whom they both seemed to be great favourites. What pleasant evenings they were, and how well I remember them, when every nook and corner of the piazza, had its oc- cupant, and everyone was talking and laughing at once, in charming abandon! Auntie would move about among her guests, looking like a frail white lily, so 68 The Days Go By beautiful and pale, and later on she and I would pass some tinkling glasses of frappe or sherbet, which always seemed to be bet- ter, somehow, than the frappe or sherbet that anyone else ever made. At least so they used to say. And then by-and-by, Auntie would send me into the dim, moon- streaked parlour to sing, which I always did very willingly, though my repertoire consisted mostly of the simplest of little songs and ballads. Ah, those were sweet, happy days that went gliding away all too fast, too fast! No wonder I was blithe and gay, carolling like a bird for very joy of existence! From the time of his first call, on the morning after the eventful party, Col. Dennington was a constant visitor at our house, and we soon found ourselves grow- ing very fond of him. Even Uncle be- came reconciled, in course of time, to his "confounded white hair," and he and the Colonel would spend many pleasant hours smoking Havanas and quarrelling amiably over politics, each never failing to remark at the end of such discussions that the 69 Ashes of Roses other was no doubt conscientious in his beliefs, but " terribly misinformed, sir, terribly misinformed!" Auntie's regard for our new friend in- creased with each visit, and I didn't won- der, for never were attentions more deli- cately and unostentatiously bestowed than those which he paid her as indeed this very old-fashioned gentleman paid all women, of whatever kind or station in life, with whom he came in contact. It was the sex he seemed to reverence, not the individual. Let me see. There is so much to tell, and so much to remember that I must stop a minute to think before I can make up my mind just when to begin. As I sit with my pen lying idle in my fingers, recalling the events of that strange summer, the first thing that comes to me is a certain hot afternoon about a week after the wonderful party. I can't write very logically just here, I fear, for I am an old woman now, you know, and this was many many years ago so you must bear with me and be patient while I do 70 The Days Go By my best to relate it all in its natural order. I am sure of one thing, however, which is that although Col. Dennington had been to see us very frequently since he had first met my aunt and taken such a fancy to her, this afternoon of which I speak was the very first time that he and I had ever been alone together. How it happened, I have quite forgot- ten. I only know that Auntie had gone out somewhere, and left me in full posses- sion of the big house and also that it was decidedly the hottest day of the season. Of the latter fact I am quite, quite sure! I remember that I had tried every room in the house in my effort to keep cool. I had thrown myself on Auntie's couch by the west window, and when the sun drove me away had gone to try the north side of the house, and found myself at once cut off from the breeze. I then compro- mised by going to my own room whose windows looked toward the east and Portland but Portland didn't happen to be in sight just then, and there seemed to be nothing else of particular interest 71 Ashes of Roses to see, as the room was in the back of the house. So I resolved to try the south window in the parlour, and accordingly tripped downstairs, my heels clicking like casta- nets on the hardwood steps as I went. The room seemed delightfully cool as I entered, but oh how dark it was! I liked a darkened room well enough, usually, but this afternoon, all alone in the great, echoing house, there was something strange and almost uncanny in the sub- dued gloom, so I hurriedly pulled up a shade and let in a great windowful of sun- shine which slanted across the floor like a sudden stream of gold. The light sum- mer wind entered with it, throbbed for a moment against my cheek and set the blue frills at my neck delicately fluttering, then seemed to steal quietly back again through the open window. "Good-bye, you dear little breeze," I whispered, stretching out my hands in the childish way I had never quite outgrown. " Fly straight to my precious mamma and say, that you left her little girl well and 72 The Days Go By happy, and that she will try to be good, always. Then breathe a kiss upon her pretty pale cheeks and on her mouth and her blue, blue eyes, and tell her to be pa- tient, for her little Ruth will come to her very soon now. It won't be long to wait. " And the breeze stirred the leaves of the cottonwood tree outside as it floated away, away toward the sky, with my message in its wings. As I stood there, watching and dream- ing, leaning idly against the window- frame, a sudden sound made me look up, and I saw a familiar figure coming along the walk. He looked rather tired, I thought, but perhaps it was only the un- usual heat of the day that made his fine head droop, and his step so slow and list- less. He was almost past the gate, and I thought he was not going to see me, but just then he glanced toward the house, and caught sight of the little figure in the window, smiling and nodding in undis- guised pleasure. He raised his hat and was passing on, when, as with a sudden impulse, he turned 73 Ashes of Roses upon his heel, unlatched the front gate and started deliberately toward the house. I ran to the door, and though it was big and heavy I had opened it before he had time to ring the bell, and was holding out a cordial hand in greeting. " You are glad to see me then ?" he said, keeping my hand for an instant and look- ing down into my face with those dark eyes into which a sudden light had flown. "And does not the old friend wear out his welcome, coming so often ?" "Indeed he doesn't!" I returned, warmly. " I am so glad to see you, for I was very lonely just now, and so blue." "Yes," he said, with a quick glance at my dress. " It seemed like a Lit of heav- en's own blue peeping at me from the window just now. And how could I turn my back on Paradise, Miss Ruth ?" "Oh, but that isn't what I meant at all!" I insisted, leading the way into the parlour. " I meant blue in my heart, don't you see?" With which I proceeded to settle my- self among my favourite cushions on the 74 The Days Go By sofa, while my visitor seated himself not far away in one of the big arm-chairs. " Mrs. Arnold is at home ?" he remarked. " No, she has been away ever since luncheon." " No wonder you were feeling lonely and blue," he said kindly. "Oh, but it isn't that," I hastened to assure him. " It isn't that at all, though of course I miss her. I I was thinking about my mamma," I added, half shyly. "Which certainly could not have made you blue?" returned the Colonel, in evi- dent surprise. I nodded. "Of course you don't understand," I remarked. " How could you, for you don't know that my dear mamma is dead. " He raised his head quickly. " Not dead ?" he repeated. "Yes," I answered, my lips trembling. " She went away from us three years ago." He said not a word, but only turned his chair a trifle, and sat shading his eyes with his hand, in the old way, 75 Ashes of Roses "It almost broke my papa's heart," I went on, rather unsteadily. " He he was very fond of her. Everyone used to say they were lovers still, although they had been married nearly twenty years when she went away. But she had loved him always, all her life, you know." "Yes?" The voice was kind, and yet it seemed to me that he was not particularly inter- ested in this bit of family history, so I hurried on. "And it was hard for us, too. Our home seems so empty without her, we can't get used to it, somehow. Oh, I get so blue and homesick sometimes home- sick for the dear old home, just as it used to be, with mamma in it." "Yes," he said, gently, all the indiffer- ence gone in an instant. " I don't won- der, little friend. I have been through it too, and understand only too well what a sad, sad thing it is to be homesick." " Have you ever been homesick ?" I asked in surprise. "Yes," he said. 76 The Days Go By "I'm so sorry," I answered, earnestly, for something in his face, rather than in his words went straight to my heart. " Have you been so very homesick ?" "Yes," he said again. Words rose to my lips, but died there, at the sight of that patient face, with its weary smile, sadder than any words he could have spoken. " But it was long ago," he went on, still in the same quiet voice, " many years ago, little friend, and I am learning to be braver now I think." " Oh, we were to be friends, weren't we ?" I cried, brightening suddenly at the remembrance. " How nice it seems to have you call me that! I had quite for- gotten it." " So soon ?" " Yes, " I said, hanging my head. " But I'll try not to, again." "Then there is something else," he continued, " that I hope you have not for- gotten. Something else you promised me that night, don't you remember?" I knit my brows, and leaned anxiously 77 Ashes of Roses forward, my hands clasped upon my knees, but for the life of me, I could not think. " Something else ?" I began. " Some- thing oh, now I know ! My great-grand- mother's picture, wasn't it?" " To be sure. I didn't think you would be so cruel as to forget it altogether." " Oh, no, I didn't forget. But I thought perhaps, you had. " " And why in the world should you think that? Because I have not asked for it before? Do you not realise that this is the very first moment " "Oh, yes," I hastened to assure him. " It wasn't that. The truth is, you see, Uncle said that you had probably forgot- ten I ever had a great-grandmother, and and I supposed he knew." The dark eyes flashed a quick glance at me. " Mr. Arnold gives me credit for a rather short memory. But he does not know me very well as yet, which must be his excuse. For you see I have remem- bered it, Miss Ruth, and am more than 78 The Days Go By anxious to see it that is, if it is not too much trouble?" Trouble! I stopped but to bestow one beaming glance of gratitude upon him, before running upstairs and returning al- most immediately with my treasure dan- gling from my finger by its slender gold chain. The picture was painted on ivory, and set in an old-fashioned gold locket unique in shape and workmanship, and studded around the edge with tiny diamonds. How they glinted and sparkled that day in the afternoon sunshine! It was very precious to me, this heirloom handed down through four generations to the last little Ruth Penrose, and I looked into his face very gravely as I laid it in his hand. " Don't drop it," I whispered, and knelt upon the floor beside his chair, flushed with pride, and hanging over the beauti- ful face in speechless delight. For it was a beautiful face, that Ruth of long ago, and the long-lashed violet eyes that looked out at us from the old locket, might well have set my great- 79 Ashes of Roses grandpapa's young heart a-beating! It was a slender, girlish figure, gowned in the simplest of white satins her wedding dress. The small proud head held erect with half-unconscious grace, was crowned with curls of the same rich brown as the delicate brows and lashes, and the skin was of a fair creamy whiteness, without the least suspicion of pink, though oddly enough the lips were full, and crimson as ripe cherries. The sweet, sensitive mouth was half parted in a smile so winning so irresistible I looked up at Colonel Dennington. He had not spoken a word, but was gazing with almost bated breath into that tender face which had smiled its last nearly a century ago. "Do you wonder that I love her?" I whispered. He shook his head, and only looked at me. But I knew he understood. At last he lifted the locket with tender reverential fingers, as one might touch a sleeping child, and laid it back in my hand. And still without a word. 80 The Days Go By How vividly it all comes back to me as I write! The sunshine falls with merci- less glare upon the white head, bowed so drearily, and upon the little figure kneel- ing beside him, her own curly brown head bent lovingly over the diamond-studded miniature. " I love her so!" I murmured, my heart throbbing fast. " And I am so proud to think that her blood runs in my veins. Ah, how good I ought to be, how brave, how noble, to deserve her name! Three others have borne it before me, you know, and never yet has it been disgraced by a single unwomanly action. And so it comes to me, the last Ruth Penrose, and so I must keep it to the end, pure, spot- " God in heaven!" Did I hear the words, or was I dream- ing? I looked up and found myself alone beside the empty chair. The Colonel had pushed past me almost roughly, and was pacing up and down the room with long quick strides, his hands locked together behind him in a pressure 81 Ashes of Roses that made the veins in the wrist stand out like whip-cords. His lips were tightly set, as if by an almost heroic effort, and that cold hard line I had noticed before about the mouth, had deepened strangely. I looked up at him, trembling suddenly. Was he going mad, I wondered? And what had I said or done to vex him so ? If I only dared, I would run to him, seize one of those horrible, fiercely-veined hands, and beseech him not to look so dreadful, but to tell me what I had done. I started to my feet, and took a quick step toward him, then stopped, irreso- lute. Some instinct told me, child as I was, that it would be worse than useless to approach him, that words would only glance off, unheeded, against that steely armour in which he had intrenched him- self. Nay, worse I knew then, as well as I know now, that one blaze from those ter- rible eyes would have consumed the rash questioner in an instant. So I only waited, silent, trembling. Up and down, up and down ! Would he never stop ? I covered my face with 82 The Days Go By my hands, but could not shut out the sound of those footsteps, echoing weirdly through the silent room. But they are growing slower, heavier, now a moment more, and they have ceased altogether. I venture to raise my head at last, and find that he has stopped before the open window, and is gazing up, far far away into the blue. He has forgotten me long ago, but is alone with his own soul and its Maker. His face is calm, and he stands very quietly, his hands still clasped behind him, his head thrown back a little. How tall and straight he is, not shrinking nor cringing, now not hiding his face from the light of day, but brave once more, to confront his trouble, whatever it is, like a man. How long he stood there, looking out upon God's smiling world, I never knew. It seemed hours to the trembling bit of humanity beside the empty chair. But at last he turned around slowly, in a dazed sort of way and saw the wondering face turned up to his, with a world of wistful sorrow in its eyes. 83 Ashes of Roses "Poor child!" he said, coming to my side, and laying his hand for an instant lightly upon my brown curls, " poor little Ruth! Did I frighten you so much?" But I could not answer. " What a brutal old fellow I am, to be sure!" he said, leading me gently to my old place on the sofa, and seating himself beside me. " Can you ever find it in your good heart to forgive me, little one?" Ah, but it was the old face that was bending over me once more, the familiar face with its kind, quiet eyes! Was the storm over, indeed ? Or stop had there ever been a storm at all ? No trace of it was left, only a great white calm, most peaceful, most wonderful. "Poor child!" he said again, as still I could not speak, but only sit and look at him in silence, " you are shaking like a leaf." "I I can't help it," I managed to stammer. " I never saw anyone that way, before. It frightened me a little." " Of course. Will you ever be able to forgive me for this? But I know I do 8 4 The Days Go By not deserve such happiness at your hands, I only deserve that you should hate me, always." " No, " I said. " Have we not promised to be friends? It will take more than this to make me forget my promise again. " "I believe you," he said, slowly, "and I thank you. But may I not just say this much in my own defence ? there is no one to speak for me, you know. Since God sent me into this dreary land, ten years ago, no human soul, until this hour, has ever seen me without the mask that hides my life sorrow. How much I re- gret that your innocent eyes should have been the first to see me forget myself. He only knows you cannot. I thought myself so strong, so brave after these long years of self-control, so defiant of the worst the Fates could send me now, this is my punishment, I suppose. It shows me that I am weaker than I thought, and for a moment it seemed " His voice faltered, but he went bravely on. " I will not offend again. Of that you 85 Ashes of Roses may be sure. Since you in your angel goodness have pardoned me this once " " But it was all my fault in the first place," I broke in, eagerly. " I ought not to have shown you the picture. But I never dreamed that it could that it you know you said you had never seen her," I finished, growing confused. " Which was quite true. I never did see her, and it was not your fault at all. She must 'have been a very beautiful woman, and I thank you most heartily for having done me the honour of showing it tome." "Oh, I am so glad you think so!" I cried in delight. "Hers is indeed a rare face," said the Colonel. " And I think the memory of it will make me, as it ought to make any man, better and stronger." "She was of Puritan blood, you know," I added. " One has only to look into her eyes to realise that." " Yes, indeed !" I cried, joyously. " Oh, how well you understand things, Colonel Dennington! It is such a comfort to talk 86 The Days Go By to you! Aren't her eyes perfectly beau- tiful did you ever see such eyes in all your life?" " Ye-es, " after a moment's hesitation, in which he had evidently been pondering the subject deeply. "Yes, I believe I have." "You have!" I exclaimed in dismay, at this unwarrantable high treason to the memory of my Well-beloved. "Yes," he replied, smiling. "I am sorry to be obliged to admit it, if it dis- pleases your ladyship, but I must confess since you asked me, you know! that I have seen eyes that seemed to me quite as beautiful as even hers." "Oh, yes," triumphantly. "They seemed so to you, I dare say. But still they might not have been really, you know the same colour, just the same colour and all." "Ah, but they really were," persisted the Colonel. " I shall have to quarrel with you still, I fear. They are, like hers, two great, wide-open violets fresh from God's garden." 87 Ashes of Roses I could only sit and look up at him, as he went on, still smiling: " They are like hers, shining with truth and innocence, looking out from under a thin fringe of brown lashes in fearless wonderment upon the great world, and the strange things they see there. And I think you would have to confess it, too, could you see them as I have done, some- times. " " I should like to see them so much," I cried, clasping my hands, " so very much, Colonel Dennington, if they are like hers, and as beautiful as you say." He did not reply, but only looked straight into my face with a keen piercing gaze that would have made me wince if I had had anything in my heart to hide from him. As it was, I only looked back at him serenely, with a gaze as steadfast as his own. "Where must I go to see her?" I asked. " Does she live in Prairie City ?" "Yes." " You must like her very much to speak so beautifully about her," I ventured. 88 The Days Go By " Do you like her very much, Colonel Den- nington? Is she your sweetheart ?" " No, little one. I am not so fortunate as you think. She may be someone's sweetheart, but not mine." " But you like her?" "Oh, yes." " Very much ?" "Yes." "And does she like you too?" " She has told me she does." " Then of course she does, if she has said so," I mused. "Oh, how anxious I am to see her!" The Colonel walked across the room and stooped to straighten a fold in the Persian rug. "I will show you her picture sometime, if you wish," he remarked at length. " So you have her picture ? Show it to me now. Have you it in your pocket?" " No, not now. I will send it around in a day or two," he replied, coming toward me. " I may have to send to Chicago for it. And now I think I will say good-bye, with your permission, for Ashes of Roses it is getting late. Be good enough to present my compliments to Mrs. Arnold, and express my my " He hesitated, and for the first time in our acquaintance seemed at a loss for a word, so I hastened to his assistance. " Your regrets ?" I suggested, rising at once. " Certainly. She will be so sorry to have missed you, I know. She is very apt to be out at this time, however, so perhaps you had better not come any more in the afternoon, don't you think?" " A wise suggestion, no doubt," replied the Colonel, turning a little abruptly and beginning to hunt for his hat. " And don't forget the picture to-mor- row," I added gaily. "I am just dying of impatience to see the Lady of the Vio- let Eyes." He turned back as quickly as he had turned away, and stood looking down at me for a moment without speaking. " What are you ?" he said at last. " A child or a woman?" "I don't know," I laughed. "I'm seventeen." 90 The, Days Go By " If you were three years older, I should call you the most consummate coquette I had ever met. If you were three years younger, I should be bringing you sugar- plums and taking you to the circus. As it is well, my new friend is a woman in one breath, a child in the next, an odd little creature that puzzles me sadly some- times, I'll confess. But never mind. I like her, and perhaps I'll learn to under- stand her better, by-and-by. " " Don't be too sure," I answered, shak- ing my head, warningly. " He who un- derstands a woman you have heard the rest ?" So the shadow that had fallen between us for a time that afternoon lifted its leaden wings and floated silently away and we parted as we had met, with gay words on our lips and the sunshine in our hearts. A few days later, a box " for Miss Ed- wards " was left at the door, too large a box to contain the photograph for which I was looking, although I was sure I knew who had sent it. 91 Ashes of Roses Hastily tearing off the paper, I found a square, rather shallow pink pasteboard box, tied with ribbons of the same dainty shade. It was but the work of a moment to loosen the bow, and I had lifted the cover in less time than it takes to tell it, and was gazing in almost breathlessly. Shall I ever forget that sea of long- stemmed violets, turning up their shy, tender faces to the eager one looking down upon them! Springtime itself seemed to hover around me, borne on the wings of that delicious fragrance, while the darlings lay there, smiling, each with its tiny tear of dew, as if in loving mem- ory of the home, far away somewhere, in the cool grass. But as I looked, in speechless delight, a bright gleam of something caught my eye. Could it be the picture after all ? I pushed aside the little blossoms to peep underneath but all I saw was two big wondering eyes that looked strangely fa- miliar, somehow. An instant more, and the truth flashed across my bewildered brain. A small 92 The Days Go By mirror, mounted in burnished silver, a su- perb bit of workmanship in itself, had been artfully hidden in the fragrant nest of vio- lets, and I had gazed down lovingly and expectantly into my own face! As I sat there in irresolute trembling surprise, a card fell from the box at my feet. It was quickly read " Will my little friend, the Lady with the Violet Eyes, forgive me ?" 93 IV A STORY OF THE PAST I SAW Colonel Dennington very fre- quently after that, but our meetings were merely commonplace, and scarcely linger in my memory at all. I know that he came, and chatted and smoked, and made himself agreeable generally that was all. I was rather shy than otherwise when he was present, I couldn't tell just why. I only know that he seemed like a differ- ent man to me when I saw him in the presence of others, although he always treated me in the same kindly way, of course, whether we were alone or not. But it used to seem to me, somehow, as if he were playing a part before the others, " keeping up" in a certain way. His own words would come ringing back to me, over and over again " No human soul, 94 A Story of the Past until this hour, has ever seen me without the mask that hides my life sorrow." Was it indeed a mask that he was wear- ing, day and night, an impenetrable mask, behind which no eyes but mine had ever seen? I would sit and watch him, unnoticed, and wonder if this cool, calm man, with a face as unruffled as a summer sea, could be the one who had paced up and down that very room, only a short week ago, with white lips quivering in passionate anguish. Was it that gay voice, lightly toying with some idle topic of the day, that had almost trembled as it whispered, " Poor child ! Poor little Ruth !" No, no. It was not he. The man I had seen that day I should never see again. Had he not told me so ? He was gone for ever, and in his place was this other cold, proud, passionless who wore the mask for me as for everyone else. But on the rare occasions when we were alone together, his mood would change, and I felt as if I knew my friend as he really was. It was nothing he said 95 Ashes of Roses or did, no lightest word or look, even, but I knew instinctively that he was not the same. He was my friend again, and I was the little girl who had promised to be his friend as well. That was all. But my shyness would vanish, and I would chatter to him by the hour, as happy as a lark, knowing that I had a listener who would always understand and be in touch with my every mood. There was a con- geniality, a spirit of ban camaraderie be- tween the white-haired old man, and the bit of a girl scarce reaching to his shoul- der that was as inexplicable as it was sweet. Uncle used to ask if I talked pol- itics with him, or he talked paper-dolls with me, and Auntie used laughingly to call us " May and December," but so it always ended, somehow in a laugh Thus it is that those few occasions when we were alone together, stand out like bright spots in my memory, and I can re- call each word, almost, that was said. And I am thinking now of an afternoon about ten days after the violets came, when Colonel Dennington had invited me 96 A Story of the Past to ride with him to the fort, which lay only a few miles outside the city. Of course I was delighted to go any- where on my beautiful new horse, and we started off in fine spirits, a couple of the Colonel's big hunting-dogs frisking close beside us. It was a perfect afternoon, just the day for a ride, and we gave vent to our pent- sp feelings by a glorious race over the two miles of hard prairie road. The si- lence was unbroken save for the steady pat, pat, of the horses' feet, and the echo- ing answer of the dogs at our heels. I felt as if I were flying through the air, and could have screamed aloud in very joy. "Wasn't it grand!" I found breath to cry at last, as we reined in our panting horses, " and oh, did you ever have such a good time!" He turned to me with that quick smile which I had learned to know and look for, and I could see that his handsome face was flushed a little. "It was magnificent," he said. "I 97 Ashes of Roses haven't had such a spree in many a day. Why, you ride like a like a " " Like a Portland girl who isn't used to western horses!" I finished, gaily. "That's about the truth, and I'll save you the trouble of saying it." " It isn't fair for you to take a compli- ment out of my mouth like that, and twist it around to suit yourself," returned the Colonel, good-naturedly. " Now you will never know what an extremely nice thing I was about to say." "Nevermind. It doesn't matter. We can talk any time, and we can't always look at this lovely, lovely prairie. Do you see how it stretches away there, al- ways going on and on, and never getting tired? Doesn't it make you long to run after it, to see where it's going, and what's at the other end?" " No-o, I can't say that it does, ex- actly," he returned, lazily tapping his boot with his riding-whip. " I believe I am very well contented where I am for the present, thank you." "But it is so beautiful!" I cried, still 98 A Story of the Past glowing with pleasure. " This is such a good, beautiful world, isn't it!" As I spoke, I raised the riding-hat which was cutting me unmercifully with its heavy, unaccustomed touch, and ran my gloved fingers through the hair which was lying pressed in damp curls on my fore- head. " It is indeed a beautiful world," he re- plied, " and has many beautiful things in it." "And a good world, too," I insisted. " But of that I am not quite so sure." "Well, lam!" I cried, half passionately. " It must be, Colonel Dennington. It couldn't be so beautiful, and not be good I'm sure it couldn't." " So you think everything that is beau- tiful must be good, little friend ?" "Yes. Don't you?" He laughed rather bitterly. " I wish I could. I did at seventeen !" "But it must be good," I repeated, anxiously. " How would it dare look up, day after day, to a sky like that right up, up to where God is, if it were not 99 Ashes of Roses good? Wouldn't you think it would be afraid, almost? Wouldn't you be afraid to look up to Him, if you were not good ?" " Afraid of what, child?" "Why, of God. He is so good Him- self, you know, so all-perfect. He could not bear to look down, either, on our great world with His pure eyes, if it were a black and wicked one." The Colonel turned to me with a curious glance, but did not answer. Our horses were taking their own way, now, lazily moving along the winding road, well con- tent to rest a bit after their hot race. The dogs scurried hither and thither, in mad pursuit of a stray rabbit or of some imp of a prairie-dog which had recklessly darted across our path. Not a sound was heard but their sharp, excited barks, and the slow fall of the horses' feet. Had I ever known real sunshine, I wondered, until I came into this land where it shone eternally! How hot it was, beating down upon us from a cloud- less sky, and yet delightfully tempered by the breeze which comes to that country A Story 01 the Past with the first breath of springtime. And there, far away as the eye could reach, lay that long changeless, ever-changing vista of golden prairie-land, tossed into motionless billows in every direction, gaunt, jagged rocks breaking through here and there, as if for a last glimpse of the sky before the next wave should bury them for ever. There lay the quiet earth, turning its brown cheek lovingly to the sun's kisses, while far away lay the "cat- tle upon a thousand hills," basking drow- sily in the blue distance. "All His," I whispered, softly. "All my dear, dear Father's!" "Your father's, Ruth?" " Yes. It all belongs to Him, you know. He lends it to His children for a while, but they give it back to Him by- and-by, when they go away to that better country. Oh, Colonel Dennington, do you suppose there could be a better land than this?" "We are told so, little one." " Yes, I know. I try to imagine what it must be, but I can't. It worries me Ashes of Roses sometimes when I get to thinking about it, because I I don't want to go to that other country as much as I'm afraid I ought. This one is so sweet and bright, and I love it so! I can't bear to think of leaving it, I have been so happy here." " Yes," he said. " You must be happy, or you could not be so good." "I am happy," I said, simply. "Who would not be, among such beautiful things? See that purple away off there over the foot-hills. Did you ever see such an exquisite colour? It's like a great amethyst, set in the gold of the sunshine." My hand trembled as I pointed. But he only looked and nodded. "Ah, you don't see it as I do!" I cried, in bitter disappointment, " or you could never sit there so coldly without a word." His fine head dropped on his breast. "That is true, little lady," he said. " There is no use trying to deny it. I don't see it as you do I never can, again." " Never again ?" I repeated, sorrowfully. A Story of the Past He shook his head. " The purple and gold are there still, I know, but my poor blinded eyes cannot see them. They cannot even see the sun- set any more. They know that the sun is going down, because people tell them so, but they only pray that they may close, and be at rest, just for a little while. They are so very, very tired of looking and watching and waiting." He was looking, not at me, but straight ahead of him across the yellow prairie. "They say that I am a rich man," he went on, " and I suppose I am. I know there is many a man who would think himself lucky to change places with me. But I tell you, as heaven is my witness, I would give all I possess, everything, and give it gladly, if I could only see that pur- ple hill yonder, as you see it to-day! It is nothing to me, asbolutely nothing a mere lump on the earth's surface, a mound of grass, of rocks, of clay, nothing more. As for its making my hand tremble and my eyes shine like yours oh, God, will it never be again ?" 103 Ashes of Roses " It was so once then ?" I ventured. " You felt as I do once long ago ?" "Yes, but so long ago! It seems like a dream now. Yet the time was you can hardly believe it to see me now, I know! the time was when I, too, loved all the world and thought it beautiful. Everything was good and true, and I re- joiced in it all, and thanked God for it, as you do. Ah, poor passionate lad! How little he dreamed what bitterness that serene smiling world was holding for him !" "The poor, poor fellow!" I cried, warmly. " I am so sorry for him." But the Colonel only rode on in silence. How handsome he looked, in his black riding-suit, with the glint of silver spurs at his heels! His face had grown very pale with the heat of the day, and the white hair gleamed lustrously in the sun- shine. "Yes," he went on slowly, after a mo- ment. " It is a sad story, rather, about this poor lad, whom everyone else thought so rich. Shall I tell it to you ?" " Oh, if you only will !" A Story of the Past " It will not prove very interesting. It is very short and simple, but you shall have it, if you like. It was more than twenty years ago, you know, long before those violet eyes of yours ever opened on this world at all, that this young man lived, who had everything on earth to make him happy. He lived in a beauti- ful home, surrounded by friends and those nearer and dearer, and whenever he mounted his black horse, it did not matter in which direction he rode, for he found himself always on the land which had be- longed to his ancestors for generations, and which would be his, too, some day. Do you wonder that as the young man looked, his heart beat high with honest pride, to think that those broad, prosper- ous acres, which had made his family's name so famous, would glow and bud and bloom for him, by-and-by ? And do you wonder that he sometimes bared his head to the Southern sunshine and prayed that the God who had intrusted all this to his care, would make him faithful, and worthy of his stewardship? Ah, those were the 105 Ashes of Roses days, little friend, when the hills were purple indeed, and the sunsets crimson and gold! " And then as he rode on, many a time he would meet some small piccaninny on the dusty road, and on asking him whose boy he was, the grinning little fellow would answer, 'I's yo' boy, Mas'r!' And he would toss the child a coin and ride on, remembering that God had in- trusted him with more than even broad acres of which to give an account. And when he would reach his home at last, and fling the reins to a slave, and run up the broad steps, he would find a warm, loving welcome waiting within a dear mother's face would smile, and brothers' and sisters' gay young voices would min- gle with his own. Then, by-and-by, when the shadows fell, the great house would ring with music and laughter, and rich gowns would rustle, and bright eyes flash, and the big banquet-table would groan with its weight of good cheer, and the days and nights would pass like a fairy dream." 106 A Story of the Past He stopped, and 1 noticed that a faint bit of colour had crept into the white cheeks. But I did not speak. "And sometimes," he went on, "some- times they would while away an idle day by hunting, and then there would be gay times, with the ladies all in their velvet habits and plumed hats such beautiful girls, little one, the pride of all the South! And away they would dash across the country like a flight of bright-winged birds, while always at the head of the chase rode this young lad, revelling in his strength and manhood, and defying the most reckless to overtake him on his black horse." There was just the least bit of a pause, and then " Yes, at this time he seemed to have everything in the world to make him happy, for above all, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen had promised to become his wife." Unconsciously my heart beat faster. It was coming now. He had been mar- ried, then, after all! And oh ? if I gould 107 Ashes of Roses only have known that " most beautiful woman he had ever seen!" How happy she must have been, and how proud of her handsome gay young lover! I clasped my hands together over the loose-hanging reins, and leaned forward, my lips parted, waiting half breathlessly to catch the next words. But I waited in vain. "Is that all?" I ventured at length. " Nearly all. I have told you about the happy part in his life, when he could see the hills as you do, you know. There is another part, not quite so pleasant, when the purple and gold faded quite away, and all his money could never bring it back, even for one little moment. .You do not: care to hear of that part, gentle lady?" "Ah, but I do," I cried. "Indeed I do. That is, if you want to tell me?" "You are a dear, sympathetic little friend," he said, turning his dark eyes full upon me for the first time since he began his story. " I appreciate your kindly in- terest, but what right have I to sadden 108 A Story of the Past your happy young heart with his sorrows? Trouble enough will come to you in time, why should you bear other people's, too?" " But what is a friend for, if not to lis- ten and sympathise ? If it helps you to tell me, if it will lift from your poor heart one bit of the burden that lies there, I shall be only too happy to hear whatever you have to tell me. I can do so little to help you " I hurried on, " I am so foolish and so weak I cannot say anything wise or helpful. Let me do this one thing, let me listen. And if I cannot do more, I can at least tell you how sorry I am, and how my heart aches for you in your trouble. Won't you let me?" " Do you mean it, little one?" "Indeed I do." " Heaven bless you for those words, the sweetest I have heard in many a weary year! I believe you, when you say you want to help me, and you have done so already, more times than you can ever know." "I? I have, helped you, already? I wonder how!/' Ashes of Roses " I will tell you. Until you flitted into my life, one summer night, with God's own sunshine smiling through your in- nocent eyes, I had thought that true, womanly women, the kind for whom a man might shed his heart's blood, and count it well lost, were all gone out of the world. You have taught me that one, at least, still lives. Do you see now how you have helped me?" But I only hung my head, stupidly enough, and could not think of a word to say. "I tell you this, not to distress you," he went on, "but simply to show in what way you have made life better and brighter for your old friend. He thanks you for it, more than he can say, for words are cold and weak, sometimes. But come ! Our talk seems to have drifted into quite a serious strain this afternoon, has it not? Suppose we have another royal gallop, now our horses are rested or do you still wish me to finish my little story of the poor young man ? Are you not tired of him already?" A Story of the Past My eyes must have looked my answer most eloquently. " You still wish to hear it, then ?" "Yes, please if you still wish to tell me." " I cannot tell you all, quite. I cannot but never mind. Where was I when we left off? What was I saying?" " The most beautiful woman he had ever seen had promised to become his wife! You stopped there, I think." He looked at me with a start. "Did I say that?" I nodded. " Ah, well," he raised his hat, and tossed the heavy hair from his forehead with the old gesture. " If I said it, I must let it stand, I suppose. It was true. She was beautiful ; and and she made this young man very happy by telling him that she loved him, and would marry him, some day. Nothing so very strange in that, was there ? But you remember I told you in the first place that my story was but a simple one at best hardly worth the telling." in Ashes of Roses The reins fell idly on his horse's neck, and the Colonel was looking straight ahead of him, with a face far more peace- ful and calm than my own. "Not long after that," he went on, slowly, " the war broke out, and this young man, like everyone else, left his home and all that was dearest to him, to do his duty like a true son of the South. Never mind whether he was right or wrong. He fought for what he thought was the right, and he fought with all his soul and strength. How his heart beat, as he kissed his mother good-bye that day in early spring time, fifteen years ago, and threw himself upon his black horse, and rode off to join the ranks of his fellow- patriots! 'It won't be long, mother,' he had said, as she clung to him in a last em- brace, and buried her face on the gray- coated shoulder. 'We'll whip the Yankees in sixty days, and I'll be home again be- fore you've had time to miss me. Don't cry, mother dear!' And so he rode away, followed by his faithful body-servant, a slave who had been his all his life long. A Story of the Past At the end of the avenue, where the road wound around the hill, he turned in his saddle for a last look at the dear old home, a last wave of the gray cap to the weeping little group on the piazza.. A lump rose in his own throat as he looked, but he choked it back. 'It won't be long,' he said. 'God bless them all! I'll be back in sixty days. ' ' The Colonel's voice faltered. " And did he come back in sixty days?" I whispered. " When he rode up that avenue again not sixty days but four years later, with the scars of war on that old ragged uni- form, and a sad, heavy heart beating inside, no dear, white-pillared, ivy-grown house met his longing eyes. The sun shone hotly down upon a pile of charred and blackened ruins. That was all." " All ?" I echoed. " Was it all literally gone, his beautiful home?" "Yes," he said. "Not one stone was left upon another. Ruin and desolation reigned everywhere. Even the great trees, his mother's pride all through her 113 Ashes of Roses life, stood gaunt and charred and black- ened, like grim skeletons to mock the home-comer. They told the story only too plainly, of the enemy's hand laid on the whole place in wantonness and de- struction. Slowly he dismounted, this old young man with the haggard face, and slowly, step by step, he dragged himself toward the spot that had been for many years his home. "And this was his home-coming! Oh, the loneliness of it all, the hopelessness! How can I tell you of that hour, child ? that hour when, in the first bitterness of his grief, he threw himself face down upon the tangled grass, in utter abandon, praying God to seek out and visit with His own swift vengeance the cowards who had done the deed. The sun blazed down mercilessly upon his bare head and on the worn gray cap that had fallen among the weeds beside him, making the shining letters 'C. S. A.' dance before his sight in mocking brilliancy. And then he closed his eyes, this man whom his country had called brave, in its ignorance, 114 A Story of the Past and prayed only that he might die, then and there, upon the one spot on earth that he loved. What had he to live for now?" I did not look up when he paused. But he hurried on, almost immediately, like one who has a task to finish, and will not shrink, even to the bitter end. " How long he lay there, he never knew. The sun went down in all its glory, and the kindly hand of the dark- ness hid those cruel letters from his eyes. There was no moon, but the pitying stars stole out, one by one, and watched with him all through that terrible night. It seemed to him at last, that he had always been lying there, somehow, stiff and numb, with his head buried low in the grass, that his whole past life had been a dream, as vague as it was beautiful, and this the awakening." " But there was no one ? your mother ?" I faltered. "My mother?" he spoke the words lingeringly, as if they were sweet on his lips, and yet strangely unfamiliar, too, 115 Ashes of Roses " my mother, thank God, was beyond the reach of misery like mine, asleep in the little churchyard." "And the rest, your brothers, sisters?" " Gone, too, little one. My two brothers had long ago laid down their lives for the dear lost cause. They rode side by side with me, through the thunder and smoke of many a battle, and fought proudly to the end, but Death loves a shining mark, you know. When the dust of the battle-field had cleared away one sad August morning, we found that they had met their conqueror at last, and were lying calm and still, with upturned faces. And yet the brother left behind lived to see the day when he envied them their lot, and called it indeed, 'the better part. ' He lived to see an officer's stripes upon his arm, to hear men call him great, but what did that amount to' An empty honour, when the cause for which he had given up so much was a lost one, and worse than lost its very name a con- tempt among all the nations of the earth!" Oh, the unutterable sorrow in his white 116 A Story of the Past face! Did the wound still rankle so bitterly, after all these years? "And my sister, dear little Litz," he went on, a new tenderness creeping into his voice for an instant. " She had mar- ried a year before, they told me, and been laid to sleep in the same grave with her little one. She was always such a wee, dainty thing, a mere baby herself, it took me a long, long time to think of her as dead. I could not believe them when they told me first it seemed impossible that she, too, had gone out of my life, that little sister!" " But there was no one left, no one at all? Nobody in the whole world?" "Nobody in the whole world," he an- swered, " except the slave-boy who had gone with me through the war. He came to me that night, with the tears stream- ing down his black cheeks. 'Let's go away, Mas'r Jack,' he sobbed; 'let's go ' " Mr. Dennington's voice faltered, and he stopped abruptly. " But but-" I said at last, half per- 117 Ashes of Roses plexed " there was that most beautiful woman you had ever seen, your your wife, you know. She wasn't dead, too, was she ?" For a time he did not answer, and I began to think he had not heard. Then he said, slowly, without a quiver of a muscle in his stern face: "Yes. She was dead, too." I bowed my face upon my hands. So she was dead, too, poor beautiful girl! Was there nothing left in this lonely man's life? " Oh, I am so sorry for her, for you both," I whispered. " To think that you had to come home after those four dread- ful years and find her gone too!" Colonel Dennington stooped to adjust a buckle on his stirrup that suddenly needed attention. "When was it that she died?" I went on. "Was it long after the war began?" " No. It was before the war broke out that she died," said Colonel Dennington. " Some years before. Two or three, I think." 118 A Story of the Past Two or three, I think ! What an ex- traordinary man ! And there was some- thing in his voice that made me glance up at him quickly from under the lashes still tear-wet over the memory of that gentle girl. But though he was white even to the lips, his face was as placid as a sum- mer's day. How I longed to ask another question, just one more! But I did not dare, after a single look into those cold dark eyes. As I think it all over now, I am absolutely certain in my own mind that if I had opened my lips then, had put but one question to that man as he looked that day, I should never have been sitting here, writing these reminiscences simply because there would have been none to write. The story of my strange friend would have ended on the spot, and we might have dug a grave then and there and buried for ever our dead friendship. I write this now, with the worldly experi- ence of many an extra year on my shoul- ders, and the knowledge which those same years have brought me of the char- 119 Ashes of Roses acter of the man. But though it only came into my head that afternoon in the shape of a vague, unworded intuition, it was a God-given one, and saved the friendship by that time grown very dear to us both. So we rode on, in utter silence. The sinking sun flashed redly in our faces, and we turned our horses' heads, as with one accord, and started for home. Our des- tination the fort was forgotten. The prairie stretched in mellow ripples at our feet, each undulation growing more dis- tinct as the shadows lengthened. The dogs, with drooping heads, and lolling tongues, had had their surfeit of rabbits at last, and were trotting quite soberly and contentedly at our heels. As for the Colonel, he had grown as silent as I, a little more stately than ever, a trifle more proudly erect, that was all. Would he never speak to me again, I wondered ? It was only when we reached the out- skirts of the town that he turned with the old smile. We were passing a florist's A Story of the Past greenhouse, a tiny affair, but crowded, I could see through the windows, with bright and beautiful blossoms. " Would you like to go in and look at the flowers?" he said, reining in his horse as he spoke. "We have plenty of time before sunset, and my friend has a collec- tion well worth seeing, I assure you. You like flowers well enough to take the trouble to dismount, perhaps?" A quick glance was my only answer. He slipped to the ground at once, came to my horse's side, and held out his hands. To dismount, however, was a more serious undertaking on my part for a riding-skirt was a new and bewildering piece of mechanism to me but I reached terra- firma at last, and we entered the green- house together. Colonel Dennington appeared to be a well-known and welcome visitor, for the old lady who was in charge within a motherly-looking old soul with a checked apron as big as herself bobbed a series of profound curtsies, and expressed her- self in broken English, as very much dis- Ashes of Roses tressed that her husband was not present to receive us. "That's all right, madam," said the Colonel, lifting his hat. "Don't let that trouble you, for we just want to glance through the greenhouse a few moments, if you have no objection." Whereupon she at once assured us that she was only too delighted " And you haven't a pair of scissors you can lend us ?" mildly suggested the Colonel. Of course she had two pair, if the Colonel wished, and he accordingly took two pair, slipping into- her hand at the same time something that sounded sus- piciously like the crisp crackle of a new greenback. "There!" he whispered to me a mo- ment later, as we were strolling together through the hot-house, dripping with freshness, and heavy with a thousand sub- tile perfumes. " How do you like this after the wild, bleak prairies? Eh, little lady ?" "Oh, I like it!" I cried in delight. "Isn't that smell just delicious, though!" A Story of the Past For we were standing among the roses, and the great luscious red and pink and yellow beauties hung their sweet heads on every side, and peeped shyly at us from behind their shining leaves. "It is indeed delicious," he answered, smiling down into my eager, happy face. "But you must do more than just look and smell, you know, for we haven't long to stay. There is a dear little one right beside you, now, wondering why in the world you don't pick it. Don't you think it just a bit mean of you to keep it wait- ing so long?" " Shall I truly pick it ?" I said, still hesitating. In answer he quietly reached up and cut it himself with his scissors. "No, not this one," he said, "but all the rest, if you will. Here are the scis- sors and remember that the more roses you take the better I shall like it." He held up the pink blossom he had just cut by its long stem, and lightly brushed it against my cheek as he spoke. " I don't know which " he began, 123 Ashes of Roses but interrupted himself with, " Here, take the rose, Miss Ruth, before I lose my head entirely and say something I'll be sorry for. And now, to work, for we have only a moment to stay." "How good you are!" I said, grate- fully. " Shall I really take all I want?" " Indeed you shall, every one in the greenhouse, if you like." So without further hesitation or remark I set to work what girl wouldn't? and carefully selected a dozen or so of the handsomest ones I could see. The Colo- nel had meanwhile wandered off by him- self, returning presently with so large a bunch that the flowers fell from his hands at every step. "Come, come," he cried gaily, with a glance at my little bouquet. " What have you been doing with yourself since I've gone? You've not worked half fast enough! Why don't you work, eh?" "I did work," I protested. "Work! You don't know what the word means! Hold these while I show you," and he laid his fragrant burden in 124 A Story of the Past my hands, and fell to cutting with an enthusiasm that made the bright heads fall in a shower around us. Both my arms were soon full, even the skirt of my riding-habit was called into requisition, and he was still at work when I laid an authoritative hand on his arm and dragged him away. "You mustn't!" I cried, laughing and scolding. "You shan't cut another one! What will the poor man say when he gets back, and finds them all gone ? And how are we ever to get them home, I'd like to know?" "Bless my soul, I never thought of that!" he exclaimed in dismay. "We'll have to get them home, somehow, won't we ? Perhaps we have taken enough, child." "I should think we had! Shall we charter a dray, please, or load down the horses with them, and walk ourselves?" It ended in our packing them away in two large boxes, which the check-aproned woman spirited up for the emergency, and we rode merrily off, the Colonel insisting 125 Ashes of Roses upon carrying both boxes behind him on his saddle. "It makes me think of old times," he said, as he strapped them on. "We'll make believe that they are knapsacks, you know, and that you and I are two soldiers starting off for the war." What a queer combination he was, to be sure! Sometimes so gay and happy, entering into a child's life and thought with almost childlike comprehension, and the next moment a man, cold, distant, forbidding, with a hard, steely gleam in his eyes that kept even the most sympa- thising friend at a distance. Yet still I liked him, "for a' that," and we trotted home right merrily, laughing and chatting to our hearts' content. It did not take us long to reach the house after we had once entered the town, and after we had dismounted the Colonel walked to the door with me to help me with the roses. "And take the covers off, please," I said. " The poor, dear things have been shut up too long already." He obeyed, 126 A Story of the Past and set the boxes down in the doorway for me. I ran my hands down to the elbow, from pure luxuriousness, and drew out a great, glowing mass of them. " They're so sweet !" I said, burying my face deep in the fragrance, " and I've had such a good time!" "I am delighted to hear it, " he an- swered. " And so have I. But we didn't see the fort after all, did we ?" "Why, I forgot all about it! It went right out of my head altogether." "And mine, too. But we will try it again some other day, shall we not ?" " Oh, yes. And we won't forget it an- other time it shall be fort, pure and simple, next time, no stories nor flowers nor anything else mixed in. Oh, I almost forgot " and I glanced slyly up at him. " Thank you for the roses, Colonel Den- nington." " Don't thank me, child. I only wish each one would live as long as my remem- brance of this day, and the pleasure you have given me. And now, good-night, for I mustn't keep you standing." 127 Ashes of Roses I laid my hand very frankly in the one he was holding out, and smiled up into the flushed face. " I am glad if I have made you happy," I answered, simply. "Good-night." But the smile somehow died out of my eyes as from the darkened doorway I watched him ride away. He turned at the corner of the street to lift his hat once more, and as he disappeared from sight the words came echoing back to me, over and over again, " The most beautiful woman he had ever seen had promised to become his wife " And she was dead, too! I stumbled into the dim hall, tripping over my riding-skirt, and scattering the roses recklessly over the shining floor. Shall I confess that as I stooped to pick them up, something not unlike a tear fell quietly upon their upturned faces? 128 V A SIMPLE SERVICE AS I opened my eyes the next morning, and lay for an instant in dreamy half consciousness, hovering between earth and slumberland, the sound of church- bells mingled with the birds' song outside my window, and I knew that it was Sunday. The hands of my clock pointed at seven, warning me that the bells must be ringing for Early Communion, a service of all others that I loved the best. The house was intensely still, and I knew that I was the only living soul awake within its shel- ter. It was a sweet thought, that I could not help enjoying, in some unexplained way, and I lay very contentedly for a long time, watching the white curtains stir in the morning breeze, and looking up at the bit of blue sky where God was. " God 129 Ashes of Roses and I alone together everyone else asleep," I whispered, softly, and the near- ness of companionship with Him filled me with exquisite happiness. I think my religion at that time must have been wonderfully simple and child- like. It might have been briefly summed up in this that God was my Father, that He loved me and had given His life for me, and that I loved Him, too, more than anything else in the world. Also, that if I tried hard to please Him, by living a gentle, womanly, unselfish life, He would take me to heaven after a while, to be with Him always. That was the extent of my doctrine. The knotty, theological questions that had been for generations puzzling older and wiser heads than mine, did not trouble me at all. " God knows," I used to say. " What difference does it make whether I know or not?" So I let them all go by, simply happy in the knowledge that God loved me, and I loved Him. Perhaps the sturdy, unquestioning char- acter of my Puritan ancestors had crept 130 A Simple Service into my nature with their blood. Perhaps it was due more directly to the earnest teachings of my sweet beautiful mother, and the simple, uneventful life I had always led at home. I do not try to ac- count for it I only know that it was so, that my faith was as pure, as unaffected as that of any little child who points with chubby fingers to the stars, and lisps the name of God. I could not tell you all the thoughts that flitted into my mind that morning I would not if I could. A young girl's fancies are the most sacred things on earth, not to be paraded before even those who know her best, and least of all recalled in cold black-and-white when the girl herself, mayhap, is a faded woman, who sees life with different eyes. The eyes may be no clearer now, in searching after the divine Truth not so clear, per- haps, for we are looking through the mist of tears that the years will bring, alas! to dim our vision. It is enough to say that I lay there for a long time, listening and dreaming, the Ashes of Roses gentle voice of my mother mingling oddly with the birds' low twittering, and the monotonous cadence of the church-bells. Yes, I would go to the blessed Commun- ion. Who could tell but that she, too, in that far-away home, would be kneeling at that very hour, worshipping with me at the same footstool ? I rose and dressed hastily, stole softly downstairs and out of the sleeping house. As I passed the parlour door, a glimpse of pink roses caught my eye, overflowing from the bowl in which I had placed them the night before, and I could not resist slipping into the room, and stealing just one of them, to fasten in the folds of my dress. " Don't you want to come to church with me, little darling?" I whispered, pressing my lips to its fresh smooth cheek as we went out into the sunshiny world together. " It's much better than staying in a dark old house, I think." And I did not have cause to change my opinion. The walk was not a long one, but it seemed marvellously full of beauti- 132 A Simple Service ful things to me, at that early hour, with the dew still clinging to each bit of grass and prairie-flowers, and I was almost sorry when I reached at last the tiny brown nest of a church, and entered the cool darkness within. Service had just begun, so I slipped into an empty seat near the door, and bowing my head with the others, for- got the sunshine without, and everything but God and my mother and the dear ones at home. It was a simple service, without even the organ to add to its solemnity, but it was a most happy, restful one to me, as I knelt with quietly-clasped hands, com- muning with my Father. The delicate breath of the rose at my throat lingered on the air, as if loath to leave the hal- lowed place, and the low murmured re- sponse of the worshippers rose and fell like distant music on my ear. I was very near to God that morning, very near the great White Throne, and when it was all over at last and I rose from my knees, I could not feel it in my heart to go away at once. I could not bear to think of i33 Ashes of Roses going out from that holy place where God had been so near, into the glare of day, to go home to Aunt Kate and rolls and coffee, and talk of everything and any- thing but of the one subject that lay most near. It seemed a sacrilege, almost. I could not bring myself to do it yet. I would wait until that great white dove of Peace which had come to me with the last words of the benediction should fold his shining wings a little, and find his resting- place. So I let the others go away, and they passed down the aisle, whispering and chatting, and out of the door, with hardly a glance at the still, gray-gowned figure all alone in the pew. I took up my prayer-book and waited until everyone was gone, even the sexton, who went leaving the door open, as I knew he would for the later service. A deep hush seemed to have fallen upon everything. We were alone again, God and I no, not alone either, for in the very back seat in the farthest corner, quite in shadow, I saw the figure of a man. It A Simple Service startled me uncomfortably at first, but as I looked more closely I saw that he was sitting very still, and made up my mind that he must be asleep, some stranger who had wandered in and succumbed to the darkness and the quiet. " Poor fel- low!" I said to myself, ''he seems tired out." And with that I turned my head away, and had soon forgotten him. But when I rose to go, some time later, to my surprise he rose also, without a moment's hesitation and came forward. "Colonel Dennington!" I cried. "You here?" " Yes," he said. " I really didn't know you," I went on, " away off in that funny little dark corner. How do you feel this lovely morning ? and didn't you enjoy the service?" But he took no notice of the hand I was holding out in friendly greeting. He did not even look at me. "Will will you sit down?" he said, motioning me into one of the empty pews. " I would like to speak with you, if you can spare me a few moments." 135 Ashes of Roses He still wore his riding-suit, I noticed to my amazement, for an early Commun- ion service on Sunday morning was scarcely the place for a velvet coat and silver-spurred boots! What in the world had come over him ? But without a ques- tion, I seated myself, and looked wonder- ingly up into the haggard face, waiting for him to make known his motive in stopping me. But he only remained standing in the aisle, with his hand on the back of the pew, his eyes on the ground. He had not for an instant looked at me, I remembered with a sudden quick throb. What could have happened ? Was he vexed with me ? Oh, why would he not speak, and tell me? The rose at my throat became loosened somehow, and fell into my lap. I caught it up nervously, and began beating it, with a pretence at carelessness, against my gray-gloved fingers. A tiny shower of petals fell on the crimson floor, and lay gleaming like flecks of sunshine in the dusk. I bent my head and watched them 136 A Simple Service curiously. I even gave them a gentle kick with the toe of my boot. And then I counted them, one two three four five ! And still he had not spoken! The sixth one fluttered down from the poor mutilated blossom in my unconscious fingers. "Don't!" cried Colonel Dennington, -with sudden vehemence. " Don't do that!" "Don't do what?" "That," he replied, almost fiercely. " Why do you want to murder the poor thing?" I flashed a single look at him, of won- der and concern, and then the blood rushed to my cheeks as pink as the flower itself. Rising, with a turn of my little head as proudly defiant as his very own, I looked him straight in the eyes, and he met my glance for the first time that day. " And you have detained me all this time to ask me that ?" I said, coolly, though my heart was thumping unmerci- fully. " I will trouble you to let me pass, Colonel Dennington." i37 Ashes of Roses Until my dying day I shall never forget that moment. The whiff of a rose, even now, after all these years, will bring it back to me as vividly as yesterday, the still church, the birds twittering outside in the soft, western sunshine, the dying rose lying unheeded on the floor, breathing out its life in perfume. I saw them all, and yet I never took my eyes from that cold, white face. We stood looking at each other steadily was it only a moment ? It seemed centuries. " No," he said at last, slowly. " It was not for this that I detained you. I would give my heart's blood for a word with you just now, but if I have forfeited my right to ask that favour, you shall go. I would not seek to detain you an instant against your will." He stepped back as he spoke, and made room for me to pass. And I should have gone, I think, but I saw what he never meant that I should see, a quiver of the white lips. I stopped faltered. "You you are in trouble?" I said. "You need me, Colonel Dennington? 138 A Simple Service But why do you choose such a time as this to speak ?" " I happened to see you. I supposed no, no!" he interrupted himself suddenly, and struck the back of the pew fiercely with his clenched hand. " I will not add another lie to the one already on my soul. I did not happen to see you, I did not suppose you would be here. I saw you come. I followed you, step by step. I came-into the church just behind you, and I've never taken my eyes off your face since, God forgive me! as you knelt there like an angel in prayer." " You followed me here ?" I repeated, in vague surprise. " Why did you do that ?" " To get a chance to speak to you." "You did not come to attend the Com- munion then?" He gave a quick, comprehensive glance at his dusty riding-suit. " Hardly, in these clothes. I did not realise that I had them on still, until I saw your wondering look just now. I I have not been home since I parted from you last night," 139 Ashes of Roses " Why, where have you been ?" "I don't know. Everywhere any- where. Walking the streets mostly, I be- lieve. I could not live indoors, every- thing seemed to choke me." I sank into the seat again, trembling in every limb. What, oh what had happened ? " I thought sometimes that the night would never end. But morning did come at last, and brought me you. I fol- lowed you to church I don't know why. I spoke to you afterward I don't know why, or what I wanted to say. I only know I had a vague feeling that it would help me, somehow, just to be near you. It would make me braver, better." The simple words touched me as noth- ing else had done. I put out my hand and laid it gently on his arm. "You thought that I could help you?" I said. " Indeed I will, if I can. Has something dreadful happened since we parted last night ?" "No, "he answered. "It is only the old, old story that I have been trying for twenty years to forget. But yesterday, 140 A Simple Service telling you what I did brought it all back to me, and last night I lived it all over again, everything, step by step." He threw himself wearily into the seat beside me, and buried his face in his hands. And the sweet, withered rose lay on the floor, gleaming like a star in the darkness. Was it only yesterday that he had given it to me? Oh, how I longed to say or do some- thing to comfort him! " I I wish I were wiser," I said timidly, at last. " I wish I knew better how to help you. I would do anything so gladly, if I could. You know that surely ?" "Yes." " But there is nothing, unless unless don't you think perhaps it would help you to share your secret with someone? It must have been so heavy for you to bear alone all these years. Wouldn't you trust me enough, perhaps, to tell me?" He looked up quickly. " Trust you, dear child ? I would trust you with my very soul, if I could! But " 141 Ashes of Roses " Then tell me, and you will feel that at least you are not bearing it alone any more. Let me prove myself your friend indeed, and help you, if I can." " It is really no secret," he said slowly. " It is nothing that I am ashamed of, nothing but what might happen to any man, is happening everyday, I suppose. I make a secret of it simply because I want to forget it. If others knew, they would speak to me of it, perhaps, and keep its memory alive. But to tell you the last person in the world to whom I thought I should ever speak of it!" " And why ?" He did not answer. He only sat for a long time looking very soberly down at the little rose dying at his feet. At last "It is the irony of Fate," he said. "Yes, I will tell you." "I thank you for trusting me. You may be sure that whatever you choose to tell me will be sacred between us." " Of that I am sure, little friend, and you are the only woman on earth whom I do trust, absolutely. But I will not de- 142 A Simple Service tain you long, for I shall not mince my words. When I told you yesterday that my wife was dead, I lied." " She is not dead ?" I asked breathlessly. "She was not, at that time. Yet though her cheeks were as fair as ever, and her step as light, and her laugh as gay, she was still dead to me. " " Dead to you ?" "Yes. Do you know what that means? It means that she could not have been more utterly lost to me, had she been lying in her grave, nay, not so much so, for if Death alone had taken her from me I would not be the trembling, white- haired man who speaks to you to-day. For Death is merciful, sometimes, and though I would have wept to give her up to him, I could still have whispered, 'Only a little while, dear one!' and have walked on through life, lonely and sad, but com- forted with that one great hope. But now, neither life nor death, neither time nor eternity can give her to me again. She is gone, and I shall never see her now, never any more!" 143 Ashes of Roses " Not even in heaven ?" I whispered. "Not even in heaven," he said, and covered his face with his hands. "Oh, yes!" I cried. "Surely you will see her there. God has forgiven her, I know, even if you have not." He raised his head wearily. "You do not understand," he said. "Poor child, how could you? I know that the woman who bore her name will be in heaven for that one blot on her white soul would never bar her out but still she will not be the one I lost. I shall see her face, oh, that sweet, tender face! and shall call her by name, per- haps, and look into those dear eyes, but still it will not be she, the woman I knew on earth and learned to love. For she the one I loved is gone for ever. She died full twenty years ago, and is dead for all eternity. Now do you under- stand?" Ah me! I understood now, only too well! " For I loved her," he went on, as I did not answer. " I dare not think of those 144 A Simple Service days they drive me mad, sometimes. How well I remember the first time I ever saw her ! She was visiting my sister in that home of which I told you, and the two girls were coming toward me across the grass, arm-in-arm, she in some soft white dress, her pure soul shining out of those dark-fringed, violet eyes. How well I remember and how hard I have tried to forget! But it is of no use, no use. Even in the darkest night, with my hand over my face, I see those tender eyes looking up at me from under their shadowy lashes something as you look at me, sometimes, little friend." And still the pink rose lay on the floor, forgotten by us both. Who cared now whether it were dying? Was not she dead, that most beautiful of women! " She was so fair," he continued, slowly, yet a soft light shining in his face as he spoke, " so dainty, so like a frail wood- violet beside our brilliant southern blos- soms, how could I help loving her ? She twined herself about my heartstrings with a thousand winsome ways, until I would Ashes of Roses have laid down my life for one of her brown curls. And she? she only looked at me out of those wonderful eyes until I was utterly beside myself, and vowed to win her for my wife, if I lost Heaven itself in the attempt." "Oh!" I cried, half-startled by his ve- hemence. " Does that sound strange to come from lips like mine, little one? White faces and whiter hairs go but ill with such pas- sionate words, I know. But though I seem only an old man, now, my heart still throbs in remembrance of that time, as though it were only yesterday. We stood under those dear old trees, she and I, with the moon shining down upon us as it only can shine in a Southern night. It must have been the moonlight, or the witchery of the hour, or the white dress she wore, in which she looked as beauti- ful as an angel. I never could remember how it all came about. All I know is that I could keep my secret no longer. I told her that I loved her." It was spoken simply, but a great glory 146 A Simple Service seemed to come Into his face as he said the words, and illuminate it. I held my breath, and waited. " And she said she loved me, and laid her dear brown head upon my breast, and cried just a little the tender darling! and whispered that she would be mine, for ever and ever and ever. Oh, the sweet promises that were made that night, the vows that only the summer-winds heard! Do you wonder that I hate the moon, as I told you once? It seems always to be staring down upon my misery, and say- ing, coldly, 'I was there. I saw it. I heard it. She said she loved you, and now she is dead dead!' ' As he spoke, the clergyman slipped into the chancel, and quietly and reverently removed the Communion service from the altar. I watched him almost mechani- cally, as he went back and forth, with the shining silver in his hands. Was I dreaming, I wondered ? Was it only this morning, or was it in some other world that I had risen from my bed and thanked God for His goodness? I had never 147 Ashes of Roses known, then, that sorrow such as this ex- isted could exist. And how could God be Love, to allow such sorrow to come upon His children, for whom He died? " I know you are weary," said the Colo- nel, following my glance, " but bear with an old man just a little longer, if you can. His story is almost told, for it was all too quickly over that happy dream! My darling went away, not long after that, back to her Northern home, and my life's sunshine went with her. I could not let her go even then, until she had promised that on the next New Year's Day she would become my wife. It was about six weeks after she went away, that she sent me a letter who but a woman could have written it ? I read it only once, but I could tell you every word to- day. I tore it in pieces, and threw it in the fire. 'It is not her letter,' I said, though when I opened it, the ring I had given her dropped into my hand. 'My darling could never have written it. I will never believe those cruel words until I hear them from her own lips. ' 148 A Simple Service " I rang the bell, ordered my satchel, and took the train for the North that night. No one knew where I had gone. No one knew the nature of the 'impor- tant business ' that was calling me to New York so suddenly. And she, least of all, knew that I was coming. The days were years to my impatient soul, the fastest trains seemed to creep like snails. I could have walked faster, I thought to myself. Oh, to reach her at last, to hear from her own lips that the dreadful letter was not hers, was a forgery, a mistake anything but true! " When I reached New York at last it was evening. I threw myself into a car- riage, gave the man the address, and a gold-piece. He seemed to understand, and we sped up town like mad, in and out among the crowds on Broadway until my brain fairly reeled and I closed my eyes in very dizziness. Two days and two nights of torturing suspense, and I was almost there! Half an hour more, twenty minutes, perhaps, and I should be holding her in my arms, hearing her tell me it was 149 Ashes of Roses a mistake, a jest, a trick to test my love. 'And I will never go home alone,' I thought to myself, clenching my teeth. 'I will never leave New York until I can take my wife back with me!' The lights grew fewer and fewer, and there was less passing now. We were in a side street, and could go faster, I saw to my delight. Almost there! Which of those tall dark houses was it that hid my jewel from my longing eyes ? Ah, the horses are slacken- ing their breakneck pace, and we have stopped at last. I throw open the car- riage-door and run up the steps, giving the old iron knocker as hard a clang as my trembling hand can summon. Is it knocking louder than my own heart, I wonder? And will they never open the door! Suppose she should open it her- self, what then ? " The servant comes at last. The young lady is at home. Will I walk in? I walk in at once, lay my satchel down in the hall, and fumble for a card. At length I find one what has gotten into my hand to make it shake so? and am ushered 150 A Simple Service into the parlour, where I proceed to pace up and down, too nervous to be quiet. I hear the sound of footsteps overhead, and then a long, ominous silence. A light laugh reaches me once, sounding strangely familiar but that is all. Why in the world does she not come down ? Surely she is not stopping to make an elaborate toilette, with her lover pacing the floor below! " At last I hear footsteps descending the stairs, and turn hastily, to see only the maid-servant again, standing at the door. 'The young lady is not very well, to- night, and begs to be excused. ' I look at the woman keenly, and she retreats a step into the hall. My face is not a pleas- ant one just then, I fancy! "'My compliments to the lady,' I say, very quietly, 'and if she is indisposed, I will do myself the honour of calling again to-morrow morning, at ten o'clock.' " The woman bows, I pick up my bag and walk out of the house, too sick at heart to think what I shall do next. I only walk up and down, up and down, Ashes of Roses carrying my heavy bag, and never once feeling its weight. Out in the streets! Turned away from the house, and with- out a word ! " At midnight I reach the Astor House, go to my room, throw open the window, and sit down beside it, numbly. The city lies asleep at my feet. She is sleeping there, too, my own darling, my very life itself! And she would not see me no, no, could not. She would never deceive me, even in so small a thing. She was really not able to see me, but to-morrow I must be patient. I light one cigar from another, and sit at the window until morning breaks in the east like a gray spectre, and the sun rises only to be en- gulfed in the folds of a dense, ocean fog. I shiver, as I throw my cigar aside, and wonder, dully, if all Northern days begin like this. Worn out, I throw myself on the bed, and sleep for an hour, but it is a restless sleep and does me no good. At seven I go down to breakfast, and at eight I am sitting again in my room, watch in hand, waiting for the slow minutes to pass, 152 A Simple Service until half-past nine, when I think I may start. But I will not dwell on all this. I must hurry on the end is near, now. " When I leave the hotel at half-past nine, a dull gray mist is falling, half fog, half rain, and wholly disagreeable. An- other carriage is called, and at ten pre- cisely I had timed myself well I am standing once more on those steps and pounding the knocker. The rain has in- creased, and beats a steady pat-pat on my umbrella. The maid opens the door, as on the evening before, and eyes me some- what suspiciously. "'The lady is better to-day, I trust?' I say, as pleasantly as I can, starting to close my umbrella. " 'Yes, sir, she's better, ' replies the girl, 'but but she's not at home.' " 'Not at home on a day like this?' I echo. "'No, sir!' "Did you give her my message last night?' "'Yes, sir.' " I hesitate. There is a brief strug- 153 Ashes of Roses gle between pride and love and love wins. ' 'Do you know where she has gone ?' "'No, sir.' " 'When will she return, do you think ?' "'I'm sure I don't know.' "'Be good enough to find out, if you please. ' " She gives me a long stare, but I have planted myself on the steps, and it is very evident that I mean to stay until I find out. So she sulkily withdraws closing the door carefully behind her and I re- main outside, with the rain for company. " But I have not long to wait. She re- turns almost immediately, with the mes- sage that nobody knows when the young lady will be at home, and I fancy there is a triumphant gleam in her eyes as she says it. I turn on my heel and walk down the steps. Not even admitted to the house this time! What will come next? " One course is left me and I take it. Returning to the hotel, I send a note, a very short one, but it is written in my heart's blood." i54 A Simple Service And the poor little rose lay dying, dying all alone in the darkness! " They used to tell me I was handsome in those days I can say this to you, now that Time has dealt so roughly with me but it was far from a handsome face that I saw staring at me from the mirror when I had waited for my answer two days and nights, in vain. I had not slept, I had scarcely eaten. I had spent most of the time in the streets, haunting the theatres, the shops, the crowded promenades, any- where that I thought I might catch a glimpse of her. But I never did. Two days and two nights ! And still no answer. Was she dead ? Surely death alone could have kept her from replying to that letter, my poor, passionate letter, full of love and pleading. No, no. She was not dead they would have told me. They would have been more merciful than she. "When the third day had dragged its dull length to an end, I made up my mind that I could bear the suspense no longer. I would see her. I would haunt the house like its shadow. They might drive me Ashes of Roses away a thousand times, a thousand times I would go back. I would stay until they had to let me in and once within those walls, no power on earth could keep me from my darling. Wherever she should hide, my love would find her out. No room should be sacred, upstairs or down, no lock and key should be as strong as the mighty strength of my will. I would see her, though I should have to fight my way to her side, inch by inch. You can judge from that how the suspense of that week had almost driven me mad. No sane man would have dreamed of such a course, but in truth I was not myself, I was hardly responsible for what I said or did. One thought went surging through my brain, and one thought only, over- whelming reason, judgment, pride, every- thing to see her, by fair means, if possible, by foul, if necessary. That was all my mind had room for, then." As I looked at him, the remembrance of a certain calm July morning not long ago, came into my mind the morning when he had made his first call upon us, 156 A Simple Service and I had sat watching him, from rrv. darkened corner. Was not I right that day in thinking that those resolute lines about the mouth were not there for noth- ing? Was I not right when I said to my- self that day that he had a will which neither man nor time nor circumstances c -Mi c i break? But how about a woman? Ah, I hau not thought of that! Was it to be the old, old story after all ? "The resolution was no sooner taken," he went on, " than I was downstairs and out into the street. No carriage this time, though a dozen voices assailed me from lusty throats as I passed. I felt that I would die if I had to sit still anywhere, just then. I must walk, run, move, do something, no matter what, only to end this horrible passive waiting that was kill- ing me. I thrust my hands deep into my overcoat pockets and strode on, looking neither to the right nor to the left, my hat pulled low over my eyes. " I had no knowledge of the streets I only knew that I was going to her, and my lover's instinct guided my steps. But i57 Ashes of Roses I remember wondering in a vague, misty way if it were very far, and also of feel- ing a dull surprise to find that it was night again. The long rows of lights flickered unsteadily before me, like mock- ing eyes in the darkness. How they winked among themselves, and laughed at me for a poor fool on a fool's errand! Then they grew like her eyes, calm and tender I stumbled a little, and recover- ing myself saw the passers-by stare at me curiously. "'Poor fellow!' I heard a gentle voice murmur as I passed. 'He is so young for that!' " I smiled grimly, and buttoned my coat closer about me as I hurried on. Their glances of pity, of wonder, of fear were all alike to me one troubled me as little as the other. Let them think what they would. The hand thrust deep in my pocket lay against something hard and cold, and its touch calmed me inexpres- sibly. There was one friend, at least, upon whom I could depend, and my fin- gers closed over it almost lovingly. I 158 A Simple Service would not kill her, oh no! the tiniest hair upon her head was sacred to me, but well, time would tell. " Up one street and down another, not stumbling now, but quiet oh yes, very very quiet and calm. There was nothing to be excited about. I was just going to see my darling, that was all. And how glad she would be to see me after all these months of separation! How she would cling to me, and sob, and bury her dear face on my shoulder and refuse to look up! And how by-and-by she would let me wipe the tears away, and would smile up at me in the old sweet way, and be bright once more, and ten times lovelier than ever. And how she would stand on her tiptoes to kiss me, and call me a fool- ish boy, and say she didn't like me, not the least bit! " And then I would take my bride away with me, out, out into the night, just she and I together, and no one else in all the world. Ah, we would be so happy! Why was my heart so heavy ? Why did my steps drag so, and the dry sobs catch 159 Ashes of Roses in my throat ? Was that the way to go to one's bride, the fairest bride that God ever made ? And why was I not in a car- riage, instead of plodding along in the mud? Who ever heard of a man's going to his own wedding afoot! Great heav- ens! It was preposterous! I couldn't ask her to walk, surely, in all her bridal finery, with her tiny white slippers, and cloud of a veil. How beautiful she would look, to be sure, blushing and trembling beneath its sheltering folds, and how proud I would be, how proud and there was the house, now! I had almost gone past it in my haste. " I stopped, and leaning against the iron railings of the court looked up at the win- dows. All were dark, except in the sec- ond story, where the light sifted through the soft lace curtains dimly. They were dressing her there, no doubt, the little bevy of fluttering bridesmaids, one tying on her fairy slippers, another giving the last touch to the shining curls, a third fastening the bit of orange-blossom on her veil. I pulled out my watch. Ten 160 A Simple Service minutes of midnight an odd hour for a wedding, surely! But never mind that. Why did I not go in and claim her, in- stead of standing outside, gazing long- ingly up at her windows as if I had no right to be inside ? No right at my own wedding! I took a quick step forward, but stopped. The guests had not begun to come yet, evidently, for the parlour, was quite dark. I must be ahead of time, like all impatient bridegrooms. Better wait a while. Better " A carriage rattled over the stones, echoing noisily through the quiet streets. 'The guests are arriving!' I thought, exultantly, and sure enough it was stop- ping before the house. I leaned forward, and saw the door flung open, and a man spring out, his tall figure in evening dress assuming almost grotesque proportions as it emerged from the darkness. The next instant a satin slipper appeared on the carriage step, a gloved hand was laid con- fidingly in his, and from the depths of the carriage appeared a slender figure wrapped in its long white opera-cloak. She stood 161 Ashes of Roses a second by his side, gathering her heavy train, and smiling up archly into his face. The gleam from the carriage-lamp fell on her dark hair, and turned the jewels at her throat into a thousand sparkles. Had each one been a two-edged sword cutting into my soul, it could not have cut deeper or told the truth more surely. I knew it all, and sprang forward with a low cry. " She saw me, a white terror flying into her face as her eyes met mine. ' 'O my darling!' I pleaded, the pent-up agony of those days of torture ringing in my voice. 'I have been waiting so long'. What have I done, dearest, what have I done?' " She only turned her head away, and did not answer. " But the other answered for her. He strode between us, and put her almost roughly behind him, as he turned on me with a face as livid as my very own. ''Who are you, sir?' he cried. 'And how dare you address such words to my promised wife?' " His promised wife! 162 A Simple Service " The light flickered unsteadily upon us as we stood there, gazing into each other's faces, white to the lips. In the heat of my passion I could have fallen upon him and killed him then and there. It took all my self-control to keep from striking with my open hand that cold, handsome face. Mechanically my ringers closed over the pistol in my pocket, but he was unarmed, and even in my rage I could not forget that. And there was that tender, drooping figure clinging to his arm, whose eyes seemed pleading and they could conquer me, even then! ' 'I waste no words on you, sir!' I said, haughtily. ' My business is with this lady, and until she tells me with her own lips that she is your promised wife, I shall not believe it. ' " He sprang forward with an oath, but I pushed him back. And my muscles were like iron in those days. "'One moment,' I said quietly, and turned to my darling. 'Look at me, Ruth.' " She raised her head. 163 Ashes of Roses "'Is it true that you are engaged to this man ?' " The eyelids fluttered, and she tried to drop her eyes, but there was something in my own that compelled an answer. Slowly the blood flushed to her very fore- head, and I watched it coldly, almost with a dull curiosity, as it rose and died away. '"Answer me,' I said again. 'Is it true?' "'Yes,' was all she said but when she lies in her grave her face will not be whiter. " I bent down and I looked into those beautiful eyes which until that moment had held all my life's sunshine, even as one might look into the dear face of the dead and then, without a word, I turned and walked away, into the darkness and the night." The white head fell heavily upon his hands, and the last words came almost like a sigh. The clergyman had left the altar, with the service draped in its fair linen cloth, and we were alone together he and I, and the poor little dead rose. 164 A Simple Service " And it has been darkness and night ever since ?" I whispered. "Yes," he said. "I never saw her again. She is dead, you know." "Yes, yes, I know." And then a long silence fell between us. " But you ?" I said at last, timidly. "Where did you go then, what did you do?" " I was sick, they tell me, for many weeks after that, brain-fever, the doctors called it. But we will not speak of those days. I did not die, though they never dreamed how worthless was the life they were struggling so hard to bring back ! After that, I went abroad, that is where all jilted lovers are supposed to go, is it not? I spent four years in travelling about, throwing away time and money in trying to forget. Forget ! When I saw before me only her dear face shining through everything and in everything ! It was all of no avail, and when I turned my steps homeward at last, it was with as heavy a heart as when I went away. The 165 Ashes of Roses war broke out soon after, and you know the rest." "Yes," I said. "And that part is almost as sad as the other. You have had little else but trouble, always!" " No," he returned. " I had prosperity- after a while what the world calls pros- perity. I went to Mexico after the war, and became interested in mines there. It's an easy way to get rich, and a quick one. I found myself a millionaire before I realised it, but the gold was as so much ashes in my fingers. I had no one but myself to spend it on, nothing to do with it. I cared nothing for it and for that very reason, I often think, it came pour- ing in faster and faster, for Fortune is fickle, little friend, and comes oftenest when she is least valued. If I had had my darling to take care of, how eagerly I should have welcomed it for her sake! With what pride I would have placed her in a palace, and gathered around her the society which her grace and beauty so well fitted her to adorn! I would have wished all the world to see my jewel, my 1 66 A Simple Service Pearl without price. She would have been a queen, and I her humblest of slaves but now she is dead, and I am all alone." His voice trembled, and almost broke, but he went bravely on. " Even in heaven I shall be alone. Even in heaven there is no hope. I shall see her there, but she will be dead, the one I loved and trusted. For I did trust her, to the uttermost. I believed her when she said she loved me. And she! why, I found out long afterward that she was betrothed to him that other one all the time. Think of that, child. She deceived us both, though I suppose he never knew it. 'His promised wife!' and still she laid her sweet head on my breast, and listened tearfully to my pas- sionate words of love! Oh, God, if I could have died then and there, believing in her, trusting in her! I could have been so happy in that other world, watch- ing for her, loving her, waiting oh, so patiently ! for the time to come that I might clasp her in my arms once more, 167 Ashes of Roses for all Eternity! But no. I live, and men call me rich and great, and flatter me, and tell me it is a fine thing to be as I am. And I go home to my lonely room, day after day, and look into the faces of my faithful old dogs, and envy them in that when they lie down to their last sleep, they need never wake again. For if life has been so long without her, I dare not think what Eternity will be!" The birds in the sunshine outside sang of love and hope and the Resurrection, but their song found no answering chord in the poor broken heart. If she could only have seen him now, the man whose life she shattered in an idle hour, her triumph would indeed have been com- plete. Oh, how I hated her, the wicked, cruel woman ! And what could I say to sorrow such as his? I struck my hands together passionately. What could I do, what could I do! All the love I had had for her memory, all the tender regard I had felt for that "most beautiful of women" changed into a great hate and welled up in my heart, till the words I 1 68 A Simple Service might have said were choked back, un- uttered. I have sometimes wondered since, how long we sat there. He was the first to break the silence, and then he simply put out his hand and took mine within it, holding it gently as one might a little child's. "Don't, Ruth," he said huskily. "Don't do that, dear," and as I looked up at him, I realised for the first time that the tears were rolling down my cheeks. " I I can't help it," I murmured. " I didn't mean to, but I'm so sorry for you!" "Yes, little friend, I know it, and I thank you for your sympathy. But I have laid too great a burden on your ten- der heart, and I regret indeed that I have been the means of bringing tears into those eyes, which should hold nothing but gladness and light. Come, let us go. I have detained you far too long already. Go out into God's sunny world, be happy, and forget this story of the poor lad who 169 Ashes of Roses suffered once, long ago. It is over now he will not suffer any more, and the re- membrance of it will only be a shadow on the brightness of your life. Do you be- lieve me, when I tell you that I would give my soul to spare that life from every- thing that is not altogether sweet and beautiful ?" "Yes," I said. And in spite of my wet cheeks, a great happiness stole into my heart. We had risen, and still stood looking at each other and my hand still lay in his. But only for a moment. I turned, picked up the prayer-book and handker- chief that lay on the crimson cushion, and we walked slowly down the aisle together. At the door we parted in silence, he going his way and I mine. I seemed somehow walking in a dream, after that. Was it all a dream, I won- dered, and would I wake, after a while, to find myself in my little white bed, with the low church-bells ringing their Sunday greeting? The sun beat cruelly down upon my throbbing head. Dead, dead, 170 A Simple Service dead ! The words sang themselves over and over, like the refrain of a song that one cannot forget, nor quite recall. She was dead through all Eternity! And he was broken-hearted, the man who had trusted her. It was not a dream then, after all that quiet church, the bowed white head, the poor dead rose? Ah, the rose! I had forgotten it. Surely I could not leave it to die alone there in the darkness. I would take it home with me and lay it away, in girlish fashion, to look at long afterward, perhaps, when the bitterness of it all should have passed away. I turned on the impulse I had gone only a few blocks and re-entered the church. To my surprise, there in the old corner where I had first seen him, he was kneel- ing, all alone. His eyes were closed, I knew he had not seen me, so I slipped softly up the aisle to the pew where we had been sitting. But not even the tiniest of the pink petals rewarded my earnest search. I got down on my hands and. Ashes of Roses knees and hunted everywhere, but no trace of it could I find, except the faint, sweet perfume that still lingered on the air. It was quite gone my poor little rose! 173 VI MY SECRET THEY were eating breakfast when I reached home at last. "We got so confoundedly hungry," ex- plained Uncle John, as I took my seat. "Wasn't the service very long to-day, my dear?" "No, sir," I said faintly. "But I I stayed a little while afterward. The church was so pleasant." "Well, I must say I don't see where the pleasure comes in," remarked my Aunt. " A church seems to me about the dullest place on earth, when there isn't any service going on. But you always did have such odd ideas just like your poor dear mother. Have another egg?" "No thank you," I said, wearily. "I believe I'm not very hungry." " There \" said Aunt Kate, trium- Ashes of Roses phantly. " I told you so, John, and you can't deny it! These early services are all nonsense, and I don't want Ruth to attempt any more of them while she is with us. I don't believe in this getting up with the first streak of daylight and praying for hours on an empty stomach. No wonder the child can't eat! Look at those cheeks, and then talk to me about early services!" "She does look pale," Uncle admitted. " Don't you feel well, dear?" "I I have a little headache,"! fal- tered. " It was pretty warm in the sun this morning, and I am tired, I think. If I could just go upstairs and lie down a little while, I am almost sure I should feel better." Of course there was nothing to be said after that, and I soon found myself in my own room, alone at last with my thoughts. The others started reluctantly for church, without me, upon being assured that I wanted nothing, needed nothing but rest, and a little sleep. I smiled to myself as I heard their steps die away, and the hall My Secret door gently close. Sleep indeed! After a half-hour like the one I had just passed! I threw myself on the bed, and tried to think it all over quietly. He had an en- gagement to dine with us that day. In a few hours I should see him, and I must be calm, composed, unconscious to the out- side world of the secret that was in my heart now as well as his. But instead of that, I found myself re- peating his words over and over, living over again with him those three days of torture. My nature was unusually sensi- tive then to joy or sorrow, and the sym- pathy I gave him was so sincere and intense that it was almost pain. I put myself in his place. I loved as he had loved. I suffered as he had suffered. I went through it all with him, and my own soul quivered with his pain. And there was no hope, no hope! The white curtains still stirred in the morning wind, just as they had done those few hours ago, but I only turned my face to the wall, and closed my eyes, drearily. Ashes of Roses For she was dead, that most beautiful of women, dead through all Eternity! Two hours later, Aunt Kate opened my door softly, and peeped in. "Still asleep, Ruth?" " No, Auntie, dear. Won't you come in f She entered, closing the door carefully behind her. A faint perfume entered with her, which I saw came from a bunch of pansies in her hand. Tiptoeing up to the bed, she laid the flowers on my pillow, their cool, velvety cheeks touching my own hot one. "For you, dearie," she whispered. "You can't guess who sent them!" I shook my head. "Colonel Dennington! He brought them himself just now. He was invited here to dinner to-day, you know." "Yes, I know. So he has come, Auntie? I will get up at once." "Oh no, " replied my Aunt, dropping into a chair, and leisurely untying her bonnet-strings. " He was here a moment 176 My Secret ago, but just stopped to leave these, and say he wouldn't be able to come to dinner after all. His train leaves at one o'clock. How is your head feeling, by the way?" " Oh, better, thank you. But his train, Auntie? I don't quite understand." "Yes, I forgot you didn't know. He is going to Chicago on the 1.20 this after- noon. He leaves very unexpectedly, he says," she went on, as I did not answer. " There was a telegram or something this morning, he didn't say just what, but it compels him to be in Chicago at once. It must be something very important some- thing to do with his mining-stock, I sup- pose. They say his mines in Mexico are just fabulously rich. But then of course I don't know that it is that these rich men have so many different interests, they are liable to be called away like this, at any time." Auntie rocked herself complacently to and fro, and seemed to be thoroughly en- joying her theme. " At any rate, he is obliged to leave at once, and he came around here especially 177 Ashes of Roses to say good-bye, which was certainly very polite in him, considering he had so little time. I wanted to wake you up and have you come downstairs, but he wouldn't allow me to disturb you, on any account, and seemed very much distressed to hear you had a headache. He sent his let me see, compliments I think it was, to 'the little lady,' and said the pansies were to bring you his good-bye messages. He said to tell you each one was a thought." "Yes," I said. "Pansies are thoughts, always," and as I looked into their little faces, I read his silent message. I knew why he had gone, and from the bottom of_ my soul, I thanked him. Life went on about as usual, after that. The summer was slowly, slowly slipping away, and September languor lay over all the land. And still I stayed on, though the letters from the dear ones at home were getting more and more impatient. But it was all so beautiful, those lazy, breathless Sep- 178 My Secret tember days, with the faint autumn haze over the brown face of the prairie, like a coquette's veil. Ah, I could not bear to leave it! I could not yet. Colonel Dennington had been back some time, and had fallen at once into his vacant place in our family circle. He was looking not so well as when he went away, a trifle thinner, everyone said, but no wonder! after working so many hot weeks in Chicago, " a beastly climate in the summer," they told me. But he seemed in good spirits, was bright, almost gay at times, quite his old self again. Had I not known his secret, I should have supposed him the most light-hearted fel- low on earth. He was as kind as ever to me, and we went riding and driving fre- quently, and had many helpful little talks, but the subject uppermost in both our minds was never alluded to by either of us. He never mentioned it, and of course, until he did my lips were sealed. But at last I had made up my mind to go. On the evening before my departure, Auntie and Uncle had been obliged to be 179 Ashes of Roses out quite unexpectedly, I remember, but they had promised to be home at the first possible moment, and put me laughingly in charge of Colonel Dennington until their return. He had taken dinner with us, and we were all expecting to spend a cosy last evening together. " But the fates have decreed otherwise," Uncle John remarked, as they went out. " Take good care of her, Colonel, and don't let her get lonely. We'll be back by nine o'clock sure." It was a cool evening, and the crack- ling wood-fire was wonderfully pleasant. We drew close up to it, he in his big velvet arm-chair and I on a pile of cush- ions on the hearth-rug, my chin on my two hands, my eyes bent on the leaping flames, very happy and contented to be quiet. In fact, we both seemed unusually quiet, I remember. To tell the truth I had something on my mind that night, some- thing that I wanted to say to him before I went away. How had I best approach it, I wondered, and glanced up at him furtively, only to find him looking down i So My Secret at me with a queer, steady gaze that made me laugh. "You look so funny!" I explained. " Oh, don't you think this fire is just lovely?" "Indeed I do." " I like it here, it is so warm and cosy and bright. I feel just as happy!" " And why do you feel particularly happy to-night, Ruth?" He asked it smilingly, but he was look- ing at me very intently. " Oh, I don't know. The fire, I suppose. " " But we have had the fire before, you know." "That's so. Well, perhaps it's because I'm going home so soon. I can't think of any other reason." "Yes, "he said. "Of course it must be that." "You see," I explained, after a mo- ment's calculation on my fingers. " It is eighty-four, no eighty-five days since I went away from everybody, and that's an awfully long time. Don't you think so yourself?" 181 Ashes of Roses "Yes. I suppose so." "It is so sweet at home," I added, softly. " And they will all be so glad to see me." "Yes," he said again. And then for a long time he sat very still, looking into the fire. And I, too, was quite content to be silent. I had pushed my cushions close to his chair, and was sitting with my head resting on the broad velvet arm. His hand, which was lying not far from me upon his knee, trembled for an instant, and then lay more still than ever, almost as if he were holding it quiet by sheer effort of the will. With a half-sigh, I closed my eyes it was very happy and restful, somehow. "Are you sorry I'm going?" I said, at last. " Shall you miss me just a little bit?" Again I saw the hand tremble, but he only said as quietly as ever: "Miss you, little one? Don't you know that it seems like taking all the sun- shine out of my life, to let you go ?" 182 . My Secret "No," I said, gently. "I didn't know that." " Your friendship has been so very precious," he went on, slowly. "It has been more to me than you can ever know. If it were not so much " he fal- tered. " I could tell you about it more easily." " I am so glad," I cried, " and I do hope you won't forget me." "No, "he said. "I can never forget. When I think of you now, I always see that day in the church, when you knelt with your little hands clasped, and your face upturned like some angel of God, so innocent and holy it seemed like profa- nation even to look at you. I went to Chicago to try to forget that picture, to drive away the remembrance of it. But I could not, though I tried with all my soul and strength." I hung my head, not knowing what to say. The fire leaped and glowed and lighted up the corners of the room into countless sparkles. And then there was another long silence, in which he sat idly 183 Ashes of Roses watching me, shading his eyes with his hand. " Did you know that I did not tell you all my secret that day ?" he said at last. " No," I said. " I thought you told me all." " Nearly all. But there is one little part that I kept to myself, that I meant never to have told you. I went away to keep from telling you, but it was no use. I have come back, you see, and I believe I should like you to know it before you go away." "Yes?" I answered, leaning forward, the better to look into his face. " What is it?" I couldn't help noticing that in spite of his smiling lips and light tone, he was very, very white. "It's a secret," he answered. "The other was not, but this is my very own secret that I've never told anybody in the whole world. Would you like to hear it?" " Oh yes," I said, smiling brightly. " I would indeed! And it's so nice in you to 184 My Secret want me to know. I think such friends as we should always confide in each other. And you see, I have a secret, too, that I want to tell you before I go. Isn't that a funny coincidence?" " Remarkable ! What may it be, please?" "Well, you tell yours, and I'll tell mine. That's only fair, don't you think ?" "But you must tell yours first!" "Oh, I will," I cried, with an alacrity that must have surprised him somewhat. "Oh the fact is, the fact is, I'm just bursting to tell it, and have been all the evening! It's such a splendid secret," I added. " I have no doubt of that, and you see I am all attention." But " splendid" though it were, my secret seemed a hard one to tell after all, and I wriggled a good deal under his questioning glance. " I haven't told it to so very many peo- ple yet, you know," I murmured, "and I am not so very much used to it. You see, the fact is 'it's funny you never sus- 185 Ashes of Roses pected! but I I'm going to be married at Christmas." The fire gave a great leap, and then died down a little, flickering redly. After that the room seemed suddenly to have grown quite still. We could hear the clock in the next room ticking faintly. " You are surprised ?" I asked, glancing shyly up at him. "Yes." He was shading his eyes in the old way, and his face was hidden for the moment. " Of course I wanted to tell you about it before I went away," I continued softly. " Thank you, " said the Colonel. " That was certainly most kind." "Oh not at all," I returned, affably, hugging my knees. " Not in the least. I wanted you to know. But I am just a little surprised that you shouldn't have guessed it yourself," I added, nodding my head wisely. "It was surprising, perhaps," he ad- mitted. " But you know you never spoke of it before." " No-o. Bu,t then, you know, you 1 86 My Secret never asked me. I would have told you in a minute if you had. This is his ring," waving it proudly in the firelight. "You must have noticed it, for I've worn it all the time. Isn't it a beauty ?" But he did not answer, he seemed scarcely to have heard. I did not mind, however, being left alone with my thoughts, for they were very happy ones just then. There in the flames, as it had been all the evening, was the dear far- away face of the one I loved, and who minds being alone, as the Irishman says, when your sweetheart is with you ! It was not long, however, before Colo- nel Dennington bent over me with the old smile in his eyes. "Congratulations!" he said, heartily, "and many of them. I only hope the lucky fellow, whoever he may be, is half worthy of you." "Oh, but he is!" I cried, stoutly, put- ting both my hands in his. " He is just as worthy as he can be. Why, he's the very best man in the world, Colonel Dennington!" 187 Ashes of Roses "Of course he is! I haven't a doubt of that, or he would never have won your heart. But come and tell me all about it. I was so surprised just now that I could hardly say a word. But of course I want to hear all about this wonderful 'best man' who is going to carry off my little friend. Who is he, what is he, where is he ?" I obeyed most willingly, you may be sure, and the Colonel listened attentively, one hand lying lightly and almost uncon- sciously on my brown curls, as I sat at his feet, with my head in its old place against the arm of his chair. "Well, "I said. "To begin with, his name is Tom, and we have known each other oh just always!" "Good! I like that. So he lives in Portland, too?" "Well, no not exactly. He does when he's home, but he's been in college for the last four years." " Ah, I see. A professional man ?" "Yes, and he does know so much!" with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. " He is going to be a professor next year, right 188 My Secret in the same college where he graduated. Isn't that splendid? And he's only twenty-four." " He must be a smart fellow, surely. But that is next year, you say ?" " Yes. He wants to go abroad this year and perfect himself in his specialty, and and he wants me to go too, and help him. We're going together after we're after Christmas." " And you will be a great deal of help to him, no doubt," said Colonel Denning- ton, smoothing my hair with a queer little smile. " Yes," I answered. " That is what he says. It seems rather funny, doesn't it? But he he is ever so fond of me," I added, smiling into the face looking out upon us from the fire, " more than you might think, perhaps." " And you are to be married at Christ- mas?" "Yes. Isn't it nice?" "Oh, delightful!" " And you never suspected it all this time?" 189 Ashes of Roses "Never, I assure you." " Why, how funny ! When I was getting letters from him every single day." "It was rather stupid of me, wasn't it? But you see it never occurred to me to read your letters!" And then we both laughed. How pleasant the evening had grown, and how kind and lovely my old friend was! He seemed interested in every- thing, so sincerely glad to think that I was happy. I don't believe I ever loved him better than I did that night, as we sat together for the last time in the firelight, and I told him, half shyly, yet with a proudly-beating heart, all about my hand- some young lover, and our plans for the future. " You see our engagement is rather dif- ferent from most," I remember saying. '* We grew up side by side and played to- gether, always, and so it was the most natural thing in the world that we should love each other. I'm sure I don't know when it began when we were babies, I think, for as long ago as I can remember 190 My Secret Tom used to call me his little sweetheart, and say he was going to marry me when he got to be a man. We never had any real courting, as I suppose most people have." "No," said the Colonel, and the ghost of a smile quivered about the corners of his mouth. " You do not appear like a little woman who has been through with much of that sort of thing." "Oh no," I chattered on. "I never had a real lover in all my life. I suppose they are rather nice things, perhaps, but I wouldn't give up Tom for all the lovers in the world. He is such a comfort to me, always! In fact, now I come to think of it," I added, solemnly, "I don't be- lieve I ever even had a proposal. It seems quite dreadful, doesn't it?" " A little strange, perhaps, under the circumstances. Think a minute. Per- haps you've forgotten it, you know." I shook my head dubiously. "I never thought about it before, but it seems to me I should remember it, if there had ever been one. Don't you think girls usually remember such things ?" 191 Ashes of Roses "I should think it quite likely yes." "Well, I should think so too, so I fancy that proves that I've never had any, at least not any of the regular kind. All he said was, 'I must go abroad after Christ- mas, dear. Wouldn't you like to go with me?'" " To which you said yes, undoubtedly." " Not at all. I said no. I told him I'd like to go ever so much, but I didn't believe it would be quite proper, I didn't think papa would let me. And then he laughed " my own eyes began to twinkle at the remembrance, " and said I was a dear little goose, and and some other things besides (Tom does say such foolish things sometimes! You'd be surprised!). And he told me that of course we would be married first, and who was to prevent his taking me with him' then, he'd like to know?" I looked up with a radiant smile. " Isn't it splendid! And oh dear, it is so nice to be engaged about the nicest thing in the world." But the smile that came in answer was 192 My Secret a fleeting one, and left something in his face that I had never seen before. "Why what is the matter?" I cried, looking up at him anxiously, " you look so queer." "Queer?" "Yes. You look as if as if oh, I don't know, I can't explain. But there! It is gone now. Something came over your face like a shadow, almost, and then went away again, just as quickly." " Perhaps it was a shadow, Ruth. Such things will come toward the sunset time, you know." After that another long lazy silence fell upon us. The hand which had trembled awhile ago, when I had laid my head down on the arm of his chair, was still resting on my hair, without a quiver now, almost as a priest's might lie in quiet benediction. "Tell me a story," I whispered at last. " You tell such beautiful ones, and this will be the very last time, you know." He roused himself from his reverie, and turned his gentle eyes full upon me. 193 Ashes of Roses " How can I, little lady ? I have told you all I know." "Then make up one," I responded, promptly. "You can, I'm sure, and I just want one more for a good-bye. Won't you, please?" " Indeed I will, if it will give you any pleasure, but it won't be a very interest- ing one, I fear. My thoughts all seem to have shadows tangled in them to- night." "Oh, never mind," I returned, closing my eyes contentedly. " It will be a nice one, I know. Never mind if it is shadowy. You wouldn't tell a gay one, surely, in this dreamy firelight and a good-bye story, too?" " No, I suppose not. Let me look in the fire a few moments, and perhaps I can find my inspiration there. But no all I can see is a little white rose growing right out of the heart of the flames. It has a story, though, it may be. Shall I try to find it for you ?" "Oh, I would like it so much! It sounds pretty already." 194 My Secret "Ah, I thought that would please you. Well, once upon a time you like stories to begin that way, I remember once upon a time there lived a man in the midst of a beautiful garden. Many rare flowers were within it, but none that seemed half so sweet to him as a certain white rose which grew all alone in a quiet corner, a rose which was so fair that he came by-and-by to love it very dearly, more than anything else in all the world. But one day a strange thing happened. He found that the little rose he loved so well had fallen from its stem, and was lying on the ground at his feet, crushed and dying. And not only that, but the whole bush on which it had been growing was broken too, and its leaves strewn in the grass, almost as if a great wind had come in the night, and destroyed it utterly. As he looked at it he grew most sorrowful. And he sat down beside the place where his dear rose had been, and covered his face with his hands, and wept bitterly. And then he laid all that was left of it tenderly away in the earth, Ashes of Roses where its home had been so long, and walked away with a very heavy heart. " He walked on and on for many days, but never could he walk far enough to forget that little rose. No matter where he might wander, he would always come back at last to that quiet corner of the garden, and sit down beside the little grave. They told him not to grieve so over the ghost of a dead rose, but to look around him and see other flowers just as sweet and beautiful. But he only shook his head. They did not understand. They could not know, as he did, that a part of him lay there buried with it. And so the years slipped away, and the man grew old and feeble and walked with a heavy step, but the old sorrow was still young in his heart. " One spring day, as he was sitting in his accustomed place, he fell asleep and and dreamed a very curious dream. He thought that as he looked, a tiny bit of green pushed its way from the heart of his little dead rose, and lifted its head to the sun. He thought the days passed, 196 My Secret and the dews fell upon it, and the sun warmed it each morning with its kisses and slowly, slowly it grew, taller and straighter and more beautiful. But the man turned aside. He could not believe it. He even walked away, and for a long time did not come back. But when he did at last, he found oh, wonder of wonders! a new white rosebud smiling in the sunshine. He held his breath as he looked. Could it be his own lost rose come back to him? Slowly the flower grew before his yearning eyes, unfolding leaf by leaf, until at last it lay in the sun- shine a perfect rose looking up into his face! " Then the man was very happy. Was it indeed sent to him by Heaven to com- pensate for all the long years he had suf- fered ? Could it be that it had risen from the ashes of the first, as fragrant, as beautiful his own come back to him ? Was there no death, after all ? A great joy grew in his heart, too deep for words to express. He reached out his hand, and picked the fragile blossom, and laid 197 Ashes of Roses it in his bosom and the years that had been so long and lonely were quite for- gotten, lost, as in a mist." The quiet voice ceased, and I looked quickly up into his face. "Ah, that is not a sad story at all!" I cried. " I think it is lovely, and I am so glad that the poor man got his rose after all." " But he didn't get it, little one. I had not quite finished. He woke up after a while, you know, and found that there was no white rose after all nothing but the little empty grave." "And it had been only a dream?" "Yes," said the Colonel, still looking quietly into the fire. " Only a dream, dear, after all !" I crept closer to the velvet chair. " Then it is a very sad story, and I don't like it." "Oh no," he replied, quickly. "It is not at all sad. I think the remembrance of his beautiful dream must have made the man happy all his life. Don't you?" " But it was too bad not to have it 198 My Secret true," I persisted. "Not just a dream, you know. It must have been so much harder for him afterward when he woke up. And it would have been so much nicer and better, if it could have been true." "No," he replied. "I I think not. Better for him, perhaps, but the heart of an old man is no fit resting-place for so tender a thing as a white rose. In his dream it might have seemed so all things are right, in dreams. But God knew best after all, when He did not let the dream come true." "But the awakening must have been so hard, poor fellow!" "Yes," he said, quietly. "It must have been hard." The words were spoken simply, but seemed almost to end the conversation, as if there were nothing left to say. It was hard but that was all. So neither of us said much after that. We seemed contented with our own thoughts, and Auntie and Uncle coming in a few min- utes later, our last evening together was at an end. 199 Ashes of Roses " Dennington, my dear fellow, what have you been doing to yourself?" asked Uncle John, as the Colonel rose to take his leave. " You are as white as a ghost, man!" " You surely don't expect roses on these old cheeks, Mr. Arnold ?" laughed the Colonel, holding out his hand to Aunt Kate. " Or, if I must wear some, I have rather a partiality for white ones, as the little lady here can testify. And now good-night. I will drop in to-morrow for a few minutes, if I may." "Well, there's no use talking," said Uncle John, coming back into the par- lour, having been to the door with his guest. " There's no use talking, Kate, there's something the matter with Den- nington. His hand shook so just now he could hardly open the door. I tried to make him take a glass of wine, but he said he was all right, and insisted on going." "I guess he's getting pretty old," I remarked, sagely. " It isn't that, my dear," put in Auntie. My Secret "You forget how he broke down his con- stitution in that horrid war!" And so the subject was dismissed. Twenty-four hours later, I waved my hands to the little group on the platform, and rolled slowly out of Prairie City. It was hard to say good-bye; the words I tried to speak had stuck in my throat. But it was over, now, and except for the great bunch of pink roses drooping on the seat opposite, and a lump in my throat that was somehow choking me, my whole summer in Prairie City might have been a happy dream. It had been harder than I had thought to part with them all, especially with the friend who had been so kind to me. He had been the last one to jump off the car, his low "God bless you, dear!" the last words that I had heard as the train moved away. And when I went to the window, afterward, to wave another fare- well to those outside, his face was the last that I had seen, as he stood alone, look- ing after me, the slow-beating autumn Ashes of Roses rain falling softly upon his uncovered head. I wondered if I should ever see him again! If I should ever "Your ticket, miss?" I shook the tears from my lashes and opened my purse. My visit, indeed, was over, and the new life had begun. "My own darling!" Of course it was Tom, taller, hand- somer, more altogether lovely in my eyes than 'ever. Two big arms were around me in a moment, and I was literally un- able to speak a single word, for reasons which will, perhaps, be too obvious to need further explanation. "So you are really back at last!" he cried, as we went rattling homeward, in Tom's papa's coupe, "and that con- founded old Captain What's-his-name didn't run off with you after all!" " You bad boy ! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What a lovely new overcoat, dear! He isn't confounded at all. He is nice, and I like him very much," this last with much dignity. My Secret "The dickens you do!" "Now don't be cross, dear, but listen. I like him very, very, very much now hush! but I don't like him one-half, nor one-thousandth nor one twenty-millionth as much as I do you. There ! Are you satisfied ?" He was. And the matter was settled quite amicably, though I found it safest to wear my hat on the opposite seat, dur- ing the rest of the way home. And what a home-coming it was! Everybody was waiting with open arms, from papa down to the cook. Why, it was well worth the perilous journey half across the continent, and into the very teeth of cowboys and coyotes, just to get home again, and see all the dear faces, and be perched up like a goddess on a pedestal and gazed at, and petted, and listened to, and admired, and scolded, and kissed ! I was allowed to talk from morn till dewy eve, and the whole family sat around and listened and applauded and stared until my vain little heart was fairly bursting with pride. Oh what a 203 Ashes of Roses good time I had during those first few days! And how the whole household hung on my words, and oh'ed and ah'ed at the right places with flattering regu- larity ! I am glad to remember as I look back on that delightful epoch that I made the most of my time, for it didn't last long. All too soon the novelty wore off, and I descended meekly from my pinnacle and assumed my old place in the household. The days flew by on golden wings after that, and Christmas day came at last, and Tom and I stepped out into the world to begin a new life together. We have been married for a long time now, and as I raise my eyes from my writ- ing to-night, I see in the dear face opposite many a line that care has brought. But there are lines in my own face, too, and the brown hair that Tom used to love so well is getting slowly streaked with gray. But we do not love each other any the less for that, nay, more, for each line and each silver hair means some care that 204 My Secret has come to us, and served only to draw each nearer to the other, in perfect love. I have been reading over my little story from beginning to end. Will it interest anyone, I wonder as I lay it down? I rise and steal over to my husband, and tell him that it is finished at last. " All done, sweetheart ?" he says, fondly. "Yes, Tom, all done except one little bit that I cannot get now. But it is not very important the story is com- plete without it, and so I'll let it go, I think." The little bit I mean is the secret Colo- nel Dennington said he had to tell me that last evening in Prairie City. It occurs to me now, in reading it over, that he never referred to it again. But it does not matter. Though I have not heard of him now for many years, of this much I am sure that somewhere we shall meet again. Somewhere I shall look up into that kind face, and our hands shall touch agajn in the quiet clasp of 205 Ashes of Roses friendship, and there will be no need of a word between us, for I shall understand, at last. Where will that Somewhere be ? Per- haps who knows? in heaven. 206 THE END. UC SOUTHERN REGION* A 000110849 7