Old Valentines / A Love Story

before him, and hovered near. In the small grate a fire blazed cheerfully; the firelight gleamed on the fine mahogany and ivory inlay of the

r; John feigned higher spirits than the occasion warranted

d withdrew. John attacked the dinner; Phyllis's fork toyed with her greens. The all-important subject w

he Dublin publisher, remains to us.

id in his hand the five ten-pound note

, will appear shortly,'" she fictitiously quoted. She

publishers won't retract

, where did you

t first answer my question? There isn't any d

, to do with as we please,-even to embark on so wild an adventure as

hand; he looked at them now, as if ha

versation; and came out especially strong on the rigid regularity of the transaction; the signed

e sold your valentines-that you love so dearly! the old valentines that are e

oth of her hands, across the little dinner t

you do this, darling; dear as it was of you to think of it,-and to

king at John with misgivings "He always has a sum of rea

," he reas

me to worst he would be justified in breaking his promise to his father that he would never

ogether, and read the poems to

" said John to Phyllis; and, when she would have made rem

azine lay on his knee, pages downward. He held an unlighted cigar in his hand. He

on to see you, sir. A very par

wlandson was shown into the room.

eter. "How have you been since we met las

alth, Sir Peter. Yes, it is all of two

ir," said

owlandson. He laid two of the parcels on the big table,

the old bookseller's sturdy, independent ways. He

terhouse to be delivered to a customer, not far from here, I thought I would bring you

rom his pocket, and straighte

little air of triumph. "The 'Proceedings' for 1848. This volume completes my set. It has given yo

he bookseller, rubbing his hands tog

k-book from a drawer;

precisely and put it into his pocketbook. They sat for a moment or two without speaking. I

d a button, near the fireplace. The sherry was served. T

Proceedings,' or thereabouts?

d. "Fifty-two.

ented Mr. Rowlandson. "You have the adv

de is good; but everything is going to the devil, and I assume the bookselling business

county paper, and depended on 'The Religious Weekly' for news, the rest of her days. She said there were no signs of change in that. O

cels on the table a little nearer t

e, I made a deal that promises a profit-a very pretty profit. Now that I come to think, it might be of

ter st

ed rather fond of them." Mr. Rowlandson sipped his sherry; he lingered over it. "Yes, I should say she was rather fond of them. Well,-tha

had been gazing into the fire. M

hen the proper time comes--" He hesitated as though at a loss for the right words. "Down I come on them-pounce!

met. Sir Pe

y niece?"

hey may have been the same valentines you bought at that sale-whose was it?-so many years ago. Of cours

r shabby profit in the helplessness of a misguided child, ignorant of the world-and its hard, rough usage. I am surprised that you

bookseller a sharp

u calculated shrewdly. Well-you were right

. Rowlandson experi

s check-book again,

id you say?

as fifty pounds," said

s!" exclaime

s to the light again, and looked

te, with interest at five per cent. I could have made

ller the pen busied itself with the che

this transaction is not for sale." Mr.

hall not be indebted

s lying on the table. There was a crash of brok

d he. "My customer will be disappoint

ident cooled Si

it is an impossible situation. My niece is not under the necessity of seeking aid fr

lk about her-and her young poet. What an upstanding, fine, f

atever!" replied Sir Peter angrily. "I k

Wrong, indeed. And I suppose you had showed him clearly tha

h. The old bookseller

the lad, I am sure? He k

discuss that with

Peter, tell me all about it. It will do you good. I will wager you have been eating your heart out, for a month, in this great, lonely house, with no one to whom you c

kseller. Mr. Rowlandson set his empty wine-glass carefully on the table,

women, ignore; which middle-aged folk hear with a certain troubled surprise? and which old people discover to be true, and think, with a sad regret, of opportunities missed, and of years devoted, how unprofitably, to other kinds of usefulness. We expect, like Joseph in his dreams, says Mr

santly, and patted the old

sman against poverty; that influence comes mostly to people who do not pursue it, and do not even know they possess it; and that the real rewards of life have fallen to simple-minded and unselfish people wh

Sir Peter's back. He turned the

The perfume will always linger in these poor, faded leaves. You never married, Sir Peter, did you? Nor I; nor I. My me! My me! I remember a girl-when I was twenty; in Her

tines, to read the verses, finely engrave

thou b

love,

nsent, or

ftly; none

hou be

ye, o

ace of your youth, for which you would have thought the world well lost; you can bring back the memory of some fragrant

stood by the f

well as his, if you only opened your arms for her-and said the right words of welcome to her-and to him. She would come back and renew your faith in youth, and hope, and love, and

ok his head, slowl

the little book for which she was willing to sell her precious valentines. The little book

walked the length of the long library;

on," he said, brokenly; "I shall go t

drew from his pocketbook the note Phyllis had signed, and held it in the grate until it blazed. Then he puc

r a new glass for my Char

house, Burbage opened the door. He carried a p

ything further, Sir

the two adjoining bedrooms made ready, Burbage. M