Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 February 1912 — A BUNCH OF VIOLETS [ARTICLE]

A BUNCH OF VIOLETS

It was one of those uptown cross-' streets whose dividing line is Broadway. No. 87, west, was one of many handsome stone dwellings, while No. ; 87, east, was merely a shabby boarding house given over to the accommo*' dation of working girls. Esther Mason wearily climbed the stairs of No. 87 east, and paused as Mrs. Beggs’ shrill voice called her name from the hall below. "Here’s something for you—a boy left it a few minutes ago—flowers, I guess! Suppose your beau sent ’em," said the boarding house mistress as Esther descended the stairs. The girl’s face flushed as she took the square box and examined the address on the violet apd gold cover. “Miss Esther Mason, No. 87 East sixth Btreet." Surely it must be for her, and yet—who would send her a ' box of flowers on her birthday? Save for the few persons in the office where she was employed she had scarcely an acquaintance in New York —and as for the home people? Esther swallowed a little sob and with a murmured word of thanks to Mrs. Beggs she ran lightly up the stairs to her little room and tossed the box on her narrow bed. When she had removed her outdoor thihgg she Bathed her face and brushed her dusky hair into satin smoothness before she sat down. All the home folks had passed away to another and more beautiful country two long years before Esther had taken her small patrimony and gone bravely to the great city to make her way among thousands of wage-earners. The investment of her money had brought her a business education, and she had slowly worked her way upward until now she could look forward to the time when an increased salary might permit of a more congenial home. In the meantime the little bank account must grow larger. This was her birthday and she alone knew it. It was a strange coincidence that some one—some new-found friend might send her some Mowers on that day. She lifted the cover and gazed with delight upon an Immense bunch of •violets. Still mystified and yet with a feeling of relief that she might not be obliged to return the gift to some unrecognized donor, she arose with the quick decision that was characteristic of her and changed her gown for the pretty pale gray that was her best. ° When the large gray hat with its single long gray feather was perched on her pretty head and the fragrant violets were pinned at her waist, Esther ran down the stairs and knocked at the door of Mrs. Beggs’ sittingroom. “I am going out to dinner,* Mrs. Beggs,” she called softly. It was after 6 o’clock and the streets and shops were brilliantly lighted. Esther hummed a little song as she turned into Fifth avenue and made her way toward a large and fashionable hotel. She knew all about this hotel —rich and fashionable people dined there bVetynigbt. This was her blrthday and she was alone. She would treat herself to the luxury of a perfectly cooked dinner and while she. listened to the music she might see all these great people whose gay doings filled much space in the newspapers. Ten minutes later she was Seated in a quiet corner of the immense restaurant with hundreds of tables glittering with silver and cut glass. As she ate the delicious meal, the payment for which would drain her purse to the bottom, her beautiful eyes took in the varied charm of the scene The handsome gowns of the women; the quiet well bred air of the men; the lovely girls, most of them her own age. to whom this dinner was a common occurrence. At the next table to Esther’s sat an elderly woman, gowned in soft black, lace with a Jeweled butterfly quivering above her snow white hair. With her was a tall young man with serious gray eyes and handsome face bent above the menu card. In the pauses of the music their conversation floated In snatches to the youpg girl at her solitary table. “You are not wearing my violets. Aunt Esther,” said the young man after a while. "You said you wanted violets.’’ “I haven’t received, them, Dick,” returned his companion; “I supposed you -had forgotten them or that you would stop for them on the way to the theater.” “They were ordered—let me see, I bought them in a little shop just off the avenue —some German name Relnz. I believe —he said he’would send them over Immediately. Some mistake, I suppose, for I distinctly told him they were for Miss Esther Mason, 87 West -—sixth street." The young man lifted his eyes and encountered the gaze of a pair of startled brown ones whose like he had never seeir before. In wondering delight he noted the brown of the eyes, and the distinct black of the curling lashes and delicately marked brows. "What is the matter, dear?” asked his aunt anxiously. "Nothing—Just a twinge.** he evaded quickly. r. y ' ■?- “Gout?” Her tone was playful. "No—heart,” he said grimly. Esther watching them with flutter Ing'hir, touched the bunch of cool violets at her waist with trembling

By CLARISSA MACKIE

fingers. She had heard the conversation about the viflTets and understood. The name on the florist’s box had been “Relnz” and there was another “Miss Esther Mason" for whom the blossoms had been purchased. A stupid shopman and the mere difference of east and west —and a singular coincidence of names —had completed the tangle. The violets were not hers. They belonged to that beautifully gowned woman at the next table who was drawing on her white gloVes and pre« paring for her departure. Esther paid the waiter and slipped into her loose gray cloak. With a graceful movement she crossed to the next table and bent over her astonished namesake. “I must ask your pardon,” said Esther composedly, "but I could not help overhearing your conversation about the violets. My name is Esther Mason and I live at 87 East sixth street. Tonight I received this beautiful bunch of violets and as there was no card —why I Just thought they came because it was my birthday. It did not occur to me there might have been a < mistake —the address was so plain on the box.” * As she spoke, Esther unpinned the flowers and laid them on the table beside Miss Mason, but the older woman thrust them back into her hands. “No, no, my dear, you must keep them; it is your birthday—and I am very glad that you have them.” She smiled sweetly at the lovely young face bent above her own and as she looked, a puzzled expression came into her eyes. She flashed a quick glance toward the table where the girl had been sitting, and then added: “You are alone —here —tonight?" -Perhaps your friends are waiting for you.” Esther flushed and drew back. “I am all alone,” she said with dignity. “I came here to dine this evening because it was my birthday and I wanted a treat —the violets tempted me—they seemed to lure me into spending one.delightfully luxurious evening. If you will not take the violets, Miss Mason, let me thank you for them and say good-night." She turned away with a slight inclination of the head, but the older woman’s hand caught hers and detained her. “Wait a moment, please. You did not understand me, my dear. I asked about your friends because I thought I might recognize among them one whom I knew —your face 1b so familiar—it is very like—someone I knew.” Miss Mason’s own face was pale now and her dark eyes shone strangely. Esther hesitated an Instant, then her firm white chin went up never so slightly. “I am sure you cannot have known my people. Miss Mason. You see, No. 87 East is a boarding house and lam merely a working girl. My people are all dead.” Her lips quivered 'slightly, and Dick Redmond suddenly dropped his eyes from her face and twisted his dinner card viciously. Mlsb Mason leaned back a little wearily and dropped the girl’s hand. “I -am very aorgr,’’ ; -flh.e said gently; “but I was sure —you look so like Tom was my cousin.” "My father’s name was Tom Mason —Tom Henry Mason they called him,” said Esther quietly. “You see we are Maryland people. They are all dead — every one save some distant cousins whom I have never seen.” Miss Mason arose quickly and slipped her arm around Esther’s waist. “My dear girl,” she half sobbed. "Tom Henry Mason was my cousin—on the other side of the house, Dick —and I really believe you were named for mV There was a misunderstanding be--1 twedn us which was never cleared up. Oh, you must come with us now, let me introduce my nephew, Dick Redmond —my cousin Esther Mason, Dick. Is it not delightful that you made the mistake about the violets?” JDick’B hand closed around Esther’s and hiß gray eyes sought hers eagerly. “We are on our way to the theater,” explained Miss Mason as they passed into the lobby and made their way to the street, where a handsome carriage waited at the curb. “You must come with us—it is your birthday, you know, and between the acts I will ask you about all your home people and we will lay plans for the future.” Dick, following them into the carriage, mentally decided that he, too. was very lonely he would make it his business to relieve his solitary condition at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps he felt a bit encouraged when, as he left Esther at the open door of No. 87 East, be asked her for some of the violets. “I could not.” said the girl quickly, clasping the bunch with eager hands. “You see they mean so much to me- — see what they have brought me tonight!” She waved her hand to Miss Mason in the carriage below and then placed It in Redmond’s outstretched palm. He looked at her from grave eyes. “The violets mean so much to me — now—l would like Jurft one,” he said. With downcast face Esther pulled out a little bunch of her precious blossoms and gave them into his hand. Then with a little murmured wofd of farewell, she disappeared within the door of No 87 East But the took in bar eyes as she flew up the tong stairs matched the look in Dick Redpond’s eyes as he rejoined his aunt » ~