Pansy Alden

“ They rose to go, and Lily bent forward and whispered a word of love as she put the roses and heliotrope in Aunt Phoebe's hand.
"Bless you! Dear child," whispered back the old lady. "I've known you this long time. You are a dear flower yourself. I've got more good in looking at your young face while you sat here, never speaking a word, than from some very long speeches." The last few words reached Mr. Thornton's ears, who said:
"That is a blow aimed at me," then taking up the basket of flowers, "Will you come with me, Miss Lily, and help me distribute my blessings?" ”

“ Thornton came, he carried away a knot of white violets for his friend, and Lily, while she made it up with care, made up also a pretty little romance. She pictured his friend a fair, sweet creature, arrayed in garments of finest texture and softest tints, with rare old laces and jewels, and a hint odor of violets always about her. How blest and happy must she be, having the right to wait and watch for him, to be glad at his coming—always with her flowers! How lovely she must be when that rare, delicate fragrance typified her to him! ”

“ Innocent enough flowers they were at first; the delight in each other's society in rambling, riding, boating, and resting under the shadows of broad spreading trees, or, from a lofty balcony enjoying the panorama the summer evening spread before them; the fair city at their feet, its spires and minarets gleaming in the moonlight, and distant mountains piled in soft masses against the crystal sky.
When Juana added to the witchery of the scene by singing sweet Spanish airs to the music of the guitar, the young husband half believed he had attained heaven and the society of the angels. ”

“ Then dear old Auntie Barber's face would travel from one simpleton to another— her rather old-fashioned black bonnet exaggerated until it was larger and queerer than any she ever thought of wearing, and yet looking enough like it to suggest the old lady, even though her placid face hadn't peeped out from under it, her head slightly thrown back, her eyes closed, a pair of immense spectacles pushed up on her forehead, and a sort of exaggeration of satisfaction on her old face; the whole calculated to make the young and heedless laugh. It was really a good comic likeness of the old lady ”

“ Thornton remember the maple leaves and the violets.
He did not mean to be an artful man, but the truth was, that there was not a look or tone or motion of this maiden's but he noted and studied, no matter how absorbed he pretended to be with the subject in hand. It puzzled him not a little that she seemed to avoid him, for he too was accustomed to being considered a person of importance. And yet it was almost refreshing to meet a young lady who did not constantly seek his society, oppress him with attention and smile approval upon him. ”

“ THE Sabbath-school library of the Penn Avenue Church was really in a disgraceful condition. For years it had been let alone, until it had finally put itself into that state of dilapidation which let alone things can so skillfully assume. Covers were sadly torn, corners curled, fly-leaves gone, in many cases the first dozen or twenty pages of the book missing, to say nothing of great gaps in the middle of the story or history. Some books had almost every leaf defaced by those irritating scribblers, who are never safe creatures with a lead pencil in their hands. ”

“ Marian said, producing her little books, "my Christmas present from a dear old auntie," and she gave them into his hands, and received his volume of essays.
It had been such a pleasant diversion from the wearisome monotony, this new acquaintance, with his varied knowledge, his fascinating conversation and graceful courtesy, and yet Marian felt ill at ease and disturbed by what she had done. He would never have noticed her, she told herself, if she had not invited his attentions. But how could she do otherwise? It was a mere act of humanity. ”

“ Not a muscle of his face changed as he said, "The time cannot possibly be extended beyond what I mentioned—Christmas week."
How could he speak of the glad Christmas-tide, the blossoming out of "peace on earth, good will to men," in that stony way and with that eager face before him!
"Sir," she said, and a little flash came into the eyes now, "I would never ask it for myself, but my grandfather is growing old. It is very hard for him to be turned out of the home where he has lived for forty years. Will you not have pity on an old man?" ”

“ Paul had said, as he rode away, and now Juana, in the glory and beauty of the summer afternoon, sat on that upper balcony watching him disappear through the great gateway—gone and she alone in her sorrow. "What if he never came up that flower 'broidered path again? Her Paul was firm, he would not relent." (The poor, blind child did not know that Paul was stubborn instead of firm.)
Martyrs of all ages have cheerfully given up their lives, but who shall say which is most heroic—to be torn limb from limb, or to tear the heart from its clay idol? ”

“ She was no sylph-like maiden that a breath might blow away. Every curve of her form was instinct with life and energy, yet the attitude was the personification of grace. Her broad-brimmed hat had fallen back on her shoulders, and the upturned face was eager and rosy as a child's as she reached a plump hand far above her head, and almost grasped the coveted scarlet branch; like a child's, too, in the wave of disappointment that swept over it when she found her utmost efforts unavailing. She picked up the basket at her feet, already half filled with ferns, and moved on a few steps ”

“ With a swelling heart, and eyes that wanted constantly to brim with tears, did the young Daisy go through with the trials of the early evening. She arranged the flowers in Blanche's frizzed hair, and the bows of her sash, and buttoned her kids, and attended to all the little details of that particular young lady's toilet; and folded her aunt's shawl, and held her fan and gloves, and went herself to the door with them, to see the carriage roll away, leaving her to solitude. ”

“ It was a gloomy, rainy afternoon in autumn that Esther, sitting alone in the library, was surprised by a call from Mr. Langdon. She was smarting under some hateful words of Sophy's, and thinking drearily that there was not a single person on the earth who cared very much whether she lived or died, when, behold! here came one, offering love, home, an honorable name, everything that a woman's heart could ask. ”

“ Sophy said, turning fiercely to Esther, "what you have done? Or haven't you brains enough to take it in? Mr. Langdon will be the richest man in the city when his father dies, and you have lost him, probably."
"I don't care for money," Esther said dreamily, her eyes out of the window, following a fleecy cloud that was sailing by, and thinking what she dare not speak, that it was far better to be able to pray as that young doctor did, than to have great riches.
"You don't care for money!" screamed her aunt. ”

“ She was in bed, pale with suffering, and a surgeon was setting her broken ankle. Esther came softly to her side, slipped her hand into hers, and stood still, watching the operation. It was like an anæsthetic in its soothing effect upon the patient— this fresh young face, with hair and eyes like Margaret's, the perfume of the flowers filling the room, and the warm little hand in hers.
Esther watched the surgeon's fingers curiously. How swift and cool their movements!—no uncertainty or clumsiness. A lady sorting embroidery silks could not work more delicately. ”

“ JUANA'S MASTER.
———
A PICTURESQUE object it was, this old Spanish-looking house, in the City of Mexico, with turrets and towers and balconies, set amid tall trees and clambering vines. The hot breath of the summer afternoon had sent most of the inhabitants to search out cool, dark retreats, and lose the sense of languor in sleep. Even the leaves and the flowers were drowsy, and universal silence settled upon all things, broken only by the plashing of fountains and the sleepy little songs of birds. ”

“ Marian made a mental note of the fact that few watched the glorious picture hung in the sky: three or four only besides herself; the old lady, the young man, a tired-looking mother, and a plain farmer with a "gospel face." As for the lap-dog woman, and the pompous man, they never saw a sunset. "Eyes have they, but they see not," applies to more than heathen idols. It is always so: God's best things are for the few; the many do not throng into the inner temple; hearts are stony, ears are dull, and "their eyes they have closed." ”

“ Lily said, her face radiant. "It is the answer to our prayers. Have we not asked and asked Him for a home, and now he has sent it to us?"
Grandpa closed his eyes, and there was silence for a moment; each knew that the other was whispering thanksgivings too deep for spoken words.
"Bless the Lord, O my soul," Grandpa murmured at length. "This deliverance came for the sake of you, his little one; such stupid unbelief as mine could never have brought the blessing. But who is Mr. Hathaway, and why in reason did he not tell me the name of my friend? ”

“ That was just what he did accomplish; things that most people would not think of doing; little helps given here and there, tiding a discouraged man over it rough spot, saving the home to a widow, giving a month's rest to a poor sewing woman, a barrel of flour or load of coal to a family suddenly driven to straits who would starve rather than beg. And money was not all he gave; no one but God and themselves ever knew how he followed young men in and out, bringing them back from the very door of the pit to respectability and to Christ. ”

“ There was a scornful big woman with a pug-nosed dog, a laughing baby, a great pompous man asleep with his mouth open, the sweet face of an old lady biding away under a deep bonnet, and at last, with careful touches, the profile of a young man who sat just ahead of her; a fine scholarly face, bent over a book.
That letter made two old people happy for more than one evening. What if our cheery words went oftener to brighten lonely homes!
Stuart Lynde, a young lawyer returning from a business trip, who sat just below, across the aisle, was not in the least interested in those about him. ”

“ Agnew. The selfish woman who heard it bit her lip in vexation, and all the jealousy in her nature rose up at the words "My Margaret"; jealous of that other wife who had been in her heavenly home for five years; whose husband, albeit, was more to be pitied now than when she first left him desolate; because he was that phenomenon—over which men and angels might weep—a true, noble man, joined for life to a selfish, heartless, coarse-grained woman, and that of his own deliberate choice. ”

“ She brought books from the library, scientific and practical, and, during the long evenings they studied them together until the elder student began to catch some of the enthusiasm of the younger, and both grew to be wise in plant lore. Mr. Winthrop even came into the greenhouse himself and made bungling efforts to be useful. It touched Lily to the heart to see her stately, dignified grandfather, who had never dealt much with details of any sort, sitting before a basket of flowers, sorting out heliotrope, primroses and smilax with painful precision. ”

“ This did not bring the least shadow upon her spirit, however; a strange intuition seemed to make this young girl aware that truth in its purity was not there, and that a mere man had no power to pronounce either blessing or curse upon her.
She was not unloving to her old aunt, nor did she intend to be undutiful, but she did purpose always and everywhere to have her own way; so the feeble old lady settled down to the inevitable, and Juana came and went free as a bird. ”

“ Her face, pale and worn, kept coming up before her, and the words, "We shivered in our beds," sounded in her ears. Then all the texts in the Bible she had ever read about the poor kept coming and going through her brain. She was a diligent reader, and her memory was good. When she would fain have entertained herself recalling the musical flow of—
"Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing,"
she could think of nothing but—
"Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble." ”