Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 260, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 November 1914 — THE WAR CF ROSES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE WAR CF ROSES

By CATHERINE M. PATTERSON.

Theodora stood idly in front of thd open window of her room at the inn

She looked directly at the mountains that loomed up in the light of a splendid moon ; that would be at its height about 11 o’clock. Just the right time, she thought. The right time, for what? for whom? The double thought brought an impatient toss of the head. “I do wish I had common sense,” muttered Theodora. “Just the smallest atom of it, at least enough to get me through tonight. Here ‘ I am, a

grown woman with a brand new A. B. dangling at my scalp belt and to save my soul I don’t know whether 1 care more for Jimmy Welting or Don Cunningham. They' have both proposed, and auntie knows It, moreover, she says it is perfectly disgraceful the way I’ve kept both those ‘adorable boys/ auntie’s own words, mind you”—Theodora was addressing herself to the mountains. “I know Jimmy sent these red roses; they make me think of him. But at the same time, these Killarneys are beauties, too, and I do love pink roses ” Into the center of the exquisite flowers went Theodora’s face, v “Botheration/’ she exclaimed angrily, “why must my night be pestered with these two who have been with me the.whole blessed day? Now, I have their pesky flowers to choose between.” No cards had come with the two corsages, but intuitively Theodora bad attributed each to the props;.* sender. “If J wear the red roses Jimmy will be camping on my trail the entire blessed evening, and if I wear the Killarneys Don will come to me the very first thing with that almost possessive smile he wears when I’ve been unusually nice to him before Jimmy’s very eyes. I know what I’ll do. I'll wear part of each corsage. That will keep the boys guessing.” .She pinned the roses to her girdle. “Mercy!” she exclaimed, “what a combination! But I’ll wear it any way. I do hope auntie and the rest of the chaperon brigade won’t think I’m quite out of my mind.” And catching up a bespangled scarf that Jimmy had once compared to a diamond-studded cloud, Theodora, to use her own expression, collected, auntie, and the two made their way to the veranda outside the large living room, where the orchestra was playing the first waltz. A masculine form, evidently on the lookout, approached at once. • "May I have the first dance, Teddy?” asked Donald Cunningham. “Surely/ 'said Teddy, looking up at him with her sweetest smile. “Why not?” she asked herself. "I’m wearing his roses as well as Jim’s.” "I do hope it will be Donald Cunningham. His mother was a Van Courtney,” auntie said to herself as she watched her niece. Of medium height, slender and the possessor of heavy black hair above gray eyes veiled with long black lashes,, and a complexion that was the despair of the girls her own age and the envy of those who had passed farther on life’s pathway, Theodora was worthy of any one’s attention. Suddenly auntie spied Teddy’s corsage, in sharp contrast to the white chiffon frock. “Good gracious,” she exclaimed aghast, “what ever possessed the child?” Quite overcome, she sank into the nearest rocking chair. In the meantime the wearer of the red and pink roses was blissfully unconscious of her relative’s consternation. Teddy was having the time of her life—with only one thing to mar the pleasure of being the belle of the hop. Jimmy had taken only one dance to Don’s eight Not that Teddy was lacking In partners, but she wondered not a little at the unusualness of it all and down in her heart of hearts were the coals of rebellion. "Wish I hadn’t worn his roses,* she was thinking, and at this juncture the ever self-possessed Jimmy put in an appearance. ■ .< "My dance, I think, Teddy. But suppose we sit or rather walk it out. The stars are glorious. So is the moon.” ...... - Out under that same moon, down a path that was sufficiently outlined with trees to afford some privacy, al man took a girl’s hand between his own, and in a voice that trembled just a little, said: ' “Teddy, dear, you are wearing my flowers tonight and doesn’t that mean that you care a little and that there is some hope for me?” Was it the moon? Or was it Jimmy? < Teddy's resolve went glimmering and Jim had won. One night, on their honeymoon, Teddy asked, apropos of various things: “Jimmy, suppose I had worn the pink roses that night?” “Wouldn’t have mattered in the dear,” replied Jimmy between cigar puffs. “I sent those, too.”