Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 November 1888 — ROSALIE. [ARTICLE]

ROSALIE.

“My heart. I eaffnot still It, Nest that has song-birds in it.*' she trilled over and over, as sbe trimmed a wreath of trailing smil and forget-me-nots. She wondered why she felt so blithe and glad to-day, for the rain was pouring down steadily, and the streets were dismal, and the heavy perfume of the flowers secerned to deaden the air more than usual. * Her name was a misnomer. < She suggested a pale white violet, rather.thah'H glowing, passionate rose. She grew w Liter and more shadow}’ every day that she stood behind the counter at the'florist’s, and took orders and made up bouquets for customers. The hot-house floxvers, severed fiom their own sausce of life, drew ppon her for strength. They sapped that they plight pro- . long their own exquisite bloom to the utmost. She was the last one 1q blame them. Were they not her only companions. and could she not talk out her queer Conceits to them? One day .she overheard a lady say to het companion, “Those flowers are living on that girl. She won’t stand it long. ” It shocked her at first, then ; she began tc realize how cruel they really were, and wondered what was to become of her if she had to give up the situation. bhc could go back to sewing, but O! how she hated it, and how she dreaded the unsympu the tic people with whom it brought her in contact! She was a dreamy, dark-eyed little thing,one would never guess . she was 18. Standing behinil 11ms counter jshe looked as if she might be in short dresses. The people who came in upon her unaware, and found her talking' to the flowers, used to Caliber “that queer child at the florist’s,’’ and note that she limped in walking, for Rosalie, some years ago, had been injured by mriinawjij' teani, and the long sickness at the hospital, had left her pale nudfrail, and, ns if that was not hard enough, her good grandmother died, and she was lef t alone in the world. In spite of her loneliness and lameness, Rosalie was a brave hearted little creature, who 'made the best of- eyeryUnngr~Stie~ sat in her corner hi Jlie little leSlauian tiuid ate her meals as daintily as a bird, with an innocent amusement meanwhile in beimr waitqd upon by the smiling, boy faced waiter. Iler attic room was as narrow as a prison cell, but it had a bit of lace before the window and a little white bed, and some prints on the walls, and she slept al nights thankful for the shelter, and she recalled faces she had met on the street with that awful shadow of sin and despair on them. The rain still fell, steadily, and the scents of the flowers made her drowsy and dreamy as she sat there. She closed her eyes and went Wandering iulo Astral hind, feme was in a beautiful dwelling that seemed to be her home. She glided from room to room, and found hcrself m- h pre t ■ ty chamber, with booksand pictures and a -nun-bin Clytie, nnd n brond square of sun--light fa 111 ng upbn ■ the ddica tp shailes AT the carpet. She reached out her hand to rearrange the window drapery, when the room vanished. She was -back to the florist’s. The white dove suspended over the great lilies and roses in the window seemed to expand his wings and circle around the room and nt last light upon her sbojilder with a sprig of heartscase-iirt its bill. Then it began to sing, and her heart swelled' with gladness, mid clear, sweet 1 voices warbled all around her: “My hrmet, J j-Hiinnt still it; ; , Nes!t that has song-bird lipit.”’ Her earthly voice broke in upon it all. She came back from Astral hind with a start and a shamed look to be caught nap ping. * .A jU,.

An imposing, handsome intin of per haps 50, with silver-gray hair, had entered and stood regarding her with kind, grave eyes. “Dreaming among the flowers,” he said, with an indulgent'’'smile. “I don’t blame you, child.” Roptflie’s face flushed slightly, with plyrsurc. His face was so kind and she did not resent the word “child” from him as she often did from others. Then, too, his face seemed familiar. Had she seen him on earth or in Astral land? -<= “Will you make me a nice bouquet and have it sent to Leland Square?” he asked, as if soliciting a favor. “It is for my daughter. Yes, tube roses and violetsand plenty of carnations, and mignonette, remember, she is very fond of that.” Rosalie tried again to recall the face as he went out, but found that an uhnccduntable little shiver seemed to attend the effort. She made up the Bouquet with nimble lingers. Tire violets twinkled at her knowingly. The roses nodded languidly. The mignonette clustered its mottled heads together, and whispered. “For his daughter,” he had said. “Was she a young girl like herself? Was she pretty? Leland square, yes. Of course, she lived in a nice house and had handsome cloth s. But such a grand, noble looking father to love her was the best of. all," Rosalie thought wistfully. She had no one to love lier since granny died,,no jjarenfs-or brother or sister, and it must be *o sweet to be lovid. Then the well spring in her heart seemed to bubble up ■again, and she cau'eht herself singing: "Aiy heart It an not still it. Nest that has song-liinls in it.” anil felt half afraid of her joyoj i.-ness. / "I Avdnder, I wonder if she is-as good as he is!” she mused, reraemb rrlijg how the daintily kept children of wealth had often turned upon her the colt, shoulder. A queer arid original thought was darting in and out of her busy bruin. “Dare 1 <lp it?’ she questioned softly. “Will they laugh at hie? M ill they think me bold? A t-di, f wish I had the courage!” She then placed the bouquet in iu beu of damp mose, and then look a piece of

paper, and sat, pep fahud thinking. She wrote, copied, and re-copied some sentences, folded the paper, and pipped it in between the roses and violets of the bouquet. Then she covered it with white p:jper and tied up the box with trembling fingers. An hour later Dick had delivered it nt Leland square. * * “See, mamma, See what I dot iu the bouquet sent! -Ajtrp’tue, ■ ■ " , “L6t me sec it, dear,” saliTa sofl, sweet voice. ■ The child danced over the carpet with the folded paper. The lady, who was dressed in deejf mourning, unfolded Rosalie’s pole and read: * “I want home so much. Do you need a girl to helpf # ‘ I can work, though I am not very strong, and I would try so hard to please you. I am Rosalie at the florist’s,” “Why, father, yvhat does thia mean?” asked the lady us Mr. Fairfax entered!. He read the note, ami smiled. “I suppose it is from the pale little girl there wild made up the boquet. I caught her asleep. She had a pathetic look, like a flower growing in the shade and longing to expand in the sunlight. You would be interested in her, Clara.” - “Her little note shall be answered in v person,” said Airs. Hathaway, whose young widowhood had made her more gentle and tender toward others. “I need some one to take charge of Althea, and from what you say ” “Well both go,” said Mr. Fairfax, quickly; “Me, too! me, too!” cried Althea, ■» * * ♦ # « ■ When, next day, a carriage stoppcdl)c-_ fore life florist’s, and Mr. Fairfax, followed by his daughter hud Althea, entered, Rosalie, who had been in a fever of excitement all the morning, felt [ike fainting for a moment, but at the gentleman’s “good morning” all the blood in her body seemed }o, marshal itself in her cheeks. • “Did you send a note to Leland square in a bouquet yesterday?” asked Mrs. Hathaway. “I found it! I found it! Did, ’<?o send it?" echoed Althea. “He looked so kind,” quavered Rosalie, with a glance at Mr. Fairfax, “and I thought it would do no harm.” “It hns done good,” declared Mrs, Hathaway, who was completely charmed wilh this sensitive flower. “We.wanf ; you to cornel” to come! Want ’OO to come!” clm&red Althea. “O, thaijK you! Thank you!” said Rosalie with big tears starting, and with a sudden movement along the floor which belraypd her lameness. “Dear child, what made you lame?” cried the lady impulsively. “1 was hurt by a runaway team six years ago,” said Rosalie. “Six years ago,” repeated the lady. "Six years ago!” echoed Mr. Fairfax. “Clara, can it be possible she is the child —” “()! O!” interrupted Rosalie,with sudden vivid recollection. “It was your face, sir, your face I saw’ in the carriage, just as the wheel struck me!” “There! I ought.not to have spoken,” sbe added penitent gs she saw the pained faces. Mr, Fairfax reached over the counter tc take her hands. "It was cruel.” he said, “too cruel. I Was on my way to lake tin steamer for Europe. I feared there was a child injured. 1 wrote to my business agent to look up the matter. lie replied that lie could find no trace of her. Tliank God, it is not too late to befriend you." “You shall live with us, and we shall make amends, " said Mrs, Hathaway. “Make ’mends, we will,” echoed Althea. » «■ * * * * » “ the very house an,d room 1 dreamed about!” cried Rosalie, when she was shown into her pretty chamber. She fitted into the.new life 113 if ln?:ury was her birthright. She brightened and expanded like a flower. There was nc question of service from her. She became Mrs. Hathaway’s companion. "She’s a little lady at all events,” was Mrs. Hathaway’s verdict. * . * “I like her, next to 'OO, mamma,” dedared Althen. Mr Fairfax’s handsome eyes are les.gntve than formerly, lie is not- yet a wine how Rosalie is creeping into his heart.