The Youth, the Maiden, and the Rosebud.

Free Lance, Volume III, Issue 143, 28 March 1903, Page 17

The Youth, the Maiden, and the Rosebud.

(BY " SUBMUUNE," 10R THE FREE LiNCE.)

THE youthful subaltern wore an air of pre-occupa,tion, an eye-glass, and a light cane, as he strode thoughtfully through the crowd. He encounteied a brother officer, and gazed abstractedly at him. •A grand day, Jack, eh?" as indeed it was. "Beastly," replied the youth, after a pause, with an effort, as he moved mconsequently on. His comrade-in-arms whistled softly, and melted away with elevated brow. The youth dived into a flower shop. For was not the regimental ball to take place that very night? It, was. And would not she— the one adorable maid— be there? She would. And had he not been accorded gracious permission to send her flowers to w ear, and entrusted with the selection -of a spray to match the damty confection that she would adorn on that important occasion, and had she not promised to reserve for him no less than three delightful waltzes? All these things were even so. n , , Before lono-, a harassed-looking messenger boy sped from the florists, holding a precious white box, top-side up with care. In the opposite direction the youth headed leisurely for his club, there to recover from the exhaustion consequent on these abnormal exertions of mind and body. Night fell it frequently does. Why does it never break, like the day ? Ihe youth, stepping alertly over the piles of reiected collars, ties, and gloves, that reposed forlorn on the floor of his quarters emerged resplendent, and was whisked gaily away in all his glory and a hansom cab. The left-hand glove was safely on, and buttoned. The process of gently persuading the other was rudely interrupted by a vicious tug from the youth, which reduced the frail and elusive garment to mere shreds. She had appeared on the scene— bewitching as ever — but never a flower. Mortification and a dozen hurried strides brought the stricken youth into the dressing-room. "Little jade, he muttered, angrily, as he hastily called up for active service his first line of reserve in gloves. "I and my floweirs are not good enough, it seems . well she shall see." . , It took the ycuth little time to make up what he was pleased to call his mind. The truly wise man, we know, never acts upon impulse. No one, however, not even his worst enemies.

ever accused this youth of tme wisdom. This time he carried out his first impulse with a rapidity a,ud thoioughness that left no room for .thought. In less than ten minutes' his piograinme was full to the extremest extia with the names of the most fascinating and flntatious damsels in the room, and the youth had started on his wild career. Not a soul could have guessed that undea* his frivolous raillery and infectious gaiety, beneath the calm serenity of his etxpansave shut-front and the sensaious curves of his waitch-oham, there lingered and lurked and gnawed a hadden sense of injury, damaped conceit, wounded pride, and unpaid tailors' bills. In fact, the youth thought he was carrying thei thing off rather w ell, although it was a bit trying to see the maid escorted to supper by some nondescript sort of person, whom the youth promptly decided in his own mind to be a common clerk and an insufferable bounder at that. It didn't say much for her taste, anyway , and, observing that the insufferable had left his charge for a moment to chase the wily meringue, the youth managed to pass quite close effusively bearing wine-jelly to the w orslupful mayor's alluring young daughter. Just bv way of a contrast, perhaps. A reproachful gaze of tw o tender brown eyes, from under the most beautiful dark hair imaginable, created an unsteadiness in the supply column, and thei jelly shivered with apprehension. A soft voice murmured sadly "Wheie have you been all the evening ? " The column was throw n into disorder, and the jelly wobbled drunkenly. ''Well, I took the hint you gave me. as I thought, and kept away." "Hint p " — so innocent, so surprised — "Oh, you don't mean the flowers?" "Why not?" "Why, silly boy, they had all fallen to pieces. The boy must have fallen over them. I only saved one. See?" The jelly collapsed, finally and irrevocably, and the youth put it on the floor. One little bud of a rose met his upward gaze, hidden away under a. fold of some "erauzy, diaphanous flimsy " he afterwards called it. "Ada,'" exclaimed the youth — but we will draw a veil over his subsequent remarks, and hers. Perhaps, a conservatory would be more appropriate, but we don't know how to draw a conservatory. This is not an illustrated article, anyway.

The mayor's alluring daughter .may still be w aiting for wine jelly, the common clerk still wandering around with a stale mennpe. The youth recks not, not a reck. Why should we 9