The Laurel Bush: An Old-Fashioned Love Story

pathos blight us

lest poems he ever penned. And he speaks truth. The r

r in this world, except Robert Roy's love-after this, Fortune sat down, folded her hands, and bowed her head to the waves of sorrow that kept sweeping over her, not for one day or two days, but for many days and weeks-the anguish, not of patience, b

sual, her own proper self, as the world knew it; but underneath all that was the self that she knew, and God knew. No one else. No one

he began to think none ever would reach her now. She ceased to hope or to fear, but let herself drift on, accepting the small pale pleasures of every da

f soaking rain, it might have lain, unobserved by any one, under the laurel branches, till the child picked it up and hid it as he said-if Robert Roy lad written to her, written in any way, he was at least not faithless. And he might have loved her t

the other impulse, or concatenation of circumstances, which had floated her, after so many changes, back to the old place, the old life. It looked like chance,

ing no reason for it; often feeling it very ha

n life there are rarely any startling "effects," but gradual evolutions. Nothing happens by accident; and, the premises once granted, nothing happens but what was quite sure to happen, following those premises. We novelists do not "make up" our stories; they

it the lamp for the evening. They were doing so, cozily chatting over the fire, after the fashion of a purely feminine household, when there was a sudden announc

e some law business which concerned her girls, whom she had grown so tenderly anxious to

nother in her cap-a pretty little fabric of lace and cambric, which, being now the fashion, her girls had at last condescended to let her wear. She had on a black silk apron, with

s inquiringly to his face-a

have not the pleasur

hair, in which were not more than a few threads of gray, while hers had so many no

ed, until I saw you, I was not sure you were the right Miss

s a voice. Had Fortune heard this one-ay, at her last dying hour, when

, no one could see any thing

she had risen, an

you, Mr. Roy. How long

your lit

ed to be. And so, without another word, the gulf of fifteen-seventeen yea

turally, too, she would have said it was impossible. That, after a very few minutes, she could have

but I thought I would take the chance. Because, were it yourself, I thought, for the sake of old times, you migh

ons, ar

am not

with Miss Williams. He spoke to them in a fatherly tone; there was nothing whatever of the young man le

l. He died suddenly, and his wife soon after, leaving their affairs in great confusion. Hearing this, far up in the Australian bush, where I have been a sheep-farmer for some years, I c

ly a word about himself. Yet he seemed to think it suffici

nd;" that it had followed him to Australia, and then back to Shanghai. But hi

d man sees land-ever so barren a land, ever so desolate a shore-he does not argue within

lain further what Mr. Roy wanted-a ho

, if some kind woman would take them and look after them. I felt, if the Miss Williams I heard of were

already two girls in charge. She could say noth

was going on just as usual-this strang

ave you to consider the question, and you will let me know as soon as you can. I am stay

ch, so vivid in dreams for these years, and now a warm

he must have heard the faint tremble in her voice-"our tea is ready. Let me

t meal-essentially feminine-a "hungry" tea. Robert Roy put his hand over his eyes as if the light dazzled him, and then sat down in the a

as to your old ways! How ve

e he made, in the slightes

d

et a pot of guava jelly for the boys-foun

t, with her house-keepi

et place, and th

stament stories, a sentence-"And he sought where to

r up her thoughts, to realize what had happened to her, and who it was that sat in the next room-under her roof

ve, the love of all

ittle boys. He did not stay long, evidently having a morbid dread of "intruding," and his manner was exceedingly reserved, almost awkward sometimes, of which he seemed painfully conscio

hold of yours, Miss Williams, which looks so-so comfortable," and he glanced round the pretty parlor with somethi

do very soon,"

And your decision once

t one of those who ar

or

ny thing without speaking to her girls; but still it was merely nominal. They always left the decision to her. And her heart yearned over the two little Roys, orphans, yet children still; while Helen and Janetta were

to their classes and their golf-playing, just as the young Dalziels had done; and Mr. Roy coming about the house, almost daily, exactly

r of an "elderly" man, and had grown a little "peculiar" in his ways, his modes of thought and speech-except that he spoke so very little. He accounted for this by his long lonely life in Australia, which had produced, he said, an almost unconquerable habit of silen

m choose it? Once chosen, probably he could not help himself; besides, he was not one to put his shoulder to the wheel and then draw back. Evidently, with the grain or against the grain, he had gone on with it; this sad, strange, wandering life, until he had "made his fortune," for he told her so. Bu

e ridiculous, pathetically ridiculous. She was sure of that. Evidently no idea of the kind entered his mind. She was Miss Williams, and he was Mr. Roy-two middle-aged people, each with their different responsi

elf to dwell upon it, but the consciousness was there, sustained with a certain feeling called "proper pride." The conviction was forced upon

said to him, "Did you write me the letter you promised? Did you ever love me"? But that one question was, of course, utterly impossible. He made no reference whatever t

the sun was shining and the waves rolling in upon the sands, just as they rolled in that morning over those two lines of foot-marks, which might have walk

hours in search of marine animals for the girls' aquarium, and then would come and sit down at their tea-table, reading or talking, so like the Robert Roy of old that one of the little group, who always crept in the background, felt di

etter than they did themselves, so that there was great excitement and no end of speculation over Mr. Roy-sometimes meeting, as they were sure to do, and walking home together, with the moonlight shining down

and there were her two girls always besides them; also his two boys, who so

he others do," said Mr. Roy one day. "Are

r father on his death-be

is

. Was he a great

ntimate friend, but I respected him exceedingly. He was a good man. His daughters had a

no doubt

feminine instinct had not already divined the fact, that whatever there might have been in it of suffering, there was nothing in the smallest degree either to be ashamed of or to hi

oned down. The Robert Roy of today was slightly different from, but in no wise

could. In the old days, when the Dalziel boys were naughty, and Mrs. Dalziel tiresome; and work was hard, and holidays were few, and life was altoget

Only sometimes, when Fortune's eyes stole to his face-not a young man's face now-she fancied she could trace, besides the wrinkles, a sadness, approaching to hardness, that never used to be. But again, when interested in some book or other (he said it was delicious to take to

presence, was something else. Can many waters quench love? Can the deep sea drown it? Wh

elves they considered Mr. Roy somewhat of an "old fogy;" were very glad to make use of him now and then, in the great dearth of gentlem

these young folks was just a little too much for him. Then she ingeniously used to save him from it and them for a while. They never knew-there was no need for

ame, announced by the sudden appari

at St. Andrews, and found sitting at their tea-table a strange gentleman, did not like

roachfully, to Miss Williams. "Indeed, you have not wri

what he wanted to do, day by day-whether he looked ill or well, happy or unhappy, only he rarely looked either-this was slowly growing to be once more her whole world. With a sting of compunction, and another, half of fea

ge career, being of age and independent, with the cozy little fortune that his old grandmother had left him, the yo

of those rare bright bits in life when the outside current of things moves smoothly on, while underneath it there may or may

-all together, children, young folks, and elders: that admirable melange which generally makes such expeditions "go off" well. Theirs did, especially the last

made the young people quite quiet for a few minutes; and then they all wandered away together, Helen promising to look after the two wild young Roys,

e provisions to see to; besides, I can not scramble as we

taking her basket, he walk

ath the church-yard elms, it was at that moment. But the feeling and the moment passed by immediately. Mr. Roy took up the thread of conversation where he had left it off-it was some bookish or ethical argument, such a

intervals, and becomes quite bearable, esp

always to have forth-coming, and which those young people did by no means despise, nor Mr. Roy neither. He made himself so

n. There's nothing like home. One thing I am determ

those terrible dividing seas-it was enough! Nothing could be so bitter as what had been; and whatever was the mystery of their youth, which it was impossible to unravel now-whether he had ever loved, or loved her and crushed it down and forgotten it, or only felt very kindly and cordially to her, as he did now, the past was-well, only the past

truest in all the world, though it had never been hers. There was a tremendous clatter of talking and laughing and fun of all sorts, between David Dalziel and the li

, for it had been a long day and she was tired, being, as she had said, "not so young as she had been." But if any of these lively young people had asked her the question whether she was happ