<h2><SPAN name="XXXV" id="XXXV"></SPAN>XXXV</h2>
<h2>ROSES</h2>
<div class="figleft"><ANTIMG src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width-obs="46" height-obs="50" /></div>
<p>ne more scene, and this narration of my life's most stirring episode
will have reached its conclusion.</p>
<p>It was a memorable scene to me. It took place in the parlours of the
little cottage in New Jersey on the day we laid Mille-fleurs away to
rest.</p>
<p>The burial had taken place, the guests had departed, and only the
members of the family remained to close up the cottage, now more than
ever precious in Leighton's eyes. George and Alfred, with an
assumption of brotherly feeling they probably thought due the
occasion, had stepped out together to see that everything was ready
for Hope's departure, and, from the window where I stood, I could
see—arrant spy that I was—the nonchalant air with which either
turned a wary eye upon the other as Hope's voice was heard above,
speaking to little Claire. They evidently still looked upon each other
as the possible object of her preference, no suspicion having reached
them of the tragic secret which had made this young girl's heart
inaccessible to them both. I, who knew it, and had my own place in the
tragedy to which they had been blind, did not watch them long,
Leighton being the more interesting<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</SPAN></span> figure at that moment, as,
standing on his desolate hearthstone, he allowed his eyes to wander
for the last time, perhaps, over the beauties of the bijou dwelling
which, exquisite as it was, had been as powerless as his love to hold
his roving wife in check.</p>
<p>He was waiting for Hope, and as this thought, with its suggestion of
another and longer waiting struck my mind, a pang seized me which it
took all my self-possession to hide. Waiting for—Hope! Hope, who had
sat that day with his child crushed close against her breast, and a
look on her face which angels might view with pity, but which I——</p>
<p>Ah! she was coming! I turned my face away, not that I had anything to
dread from this meeting, but that I felt as if I could not bear at
this moment to see the shadow veiling his melancholy countenance lift,
were it ever so lightly, at the sound of the step that was shaking my
own heart. But I immediately glanced back; uncertainty was worse than
knowledge; and, glancing back, saw Hope, and Hope only.</p>
<p>She was standing in the open doorway with her arms full of
roses—roses which she had brought from New York, and which she now
held out towards Leighton, with a smile I hardly think he saw, so much
was his attention fixed upon the flowers.</p>
<p>"What are these for?" he asked, advancing towards her and touching the
great roses with a trembling hand.</p>
<p>"They are for her," said Hope, in a low tone; "for my cousin
Millicent. I could not bear to have her<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</SPAN></span> lie with only her husband's
tokens on her breast, as if she had no—no——"</p>
<p>He caught her to his heart. Moved to the very soul, he kissed her on
the lips; then he took the flowers.</p>
<p>As he passed out, she tottered pale and almost swooning to where I
stood trembling with my own emotions. Lifting her face, with its
candid eyes and quivering lips, she faltered between her sobs:</p>
<p>"Have patience with me! I see now that he has never loved me and never
will. Had so much as the possibility been in his breast, he could not
have kissed me like that to-day."</p>
<p>It was not on George's arm, or Alfred's, or even Leighton's that she
passed out of that little house into the new life she was to share
some day with me.</p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<p>A long time after those flowers had withered on Mille-fleurs' peaceful
breast, Leighton said to me, with his hand on the head of his child:</p>
<p>"I shall never marry again, Outhwaite. To train this child up to be my
pride as she is now my joy, will fill my life as full of happiness as
is necessary to me now. And, Outhwaite, she is a quiet child,—" he
stopped—I knew what thought had stayed him,—"a quiet and a loving
child. Yesterday she sat for a full hour with her arms about my neck
and her cheek pressed to mine, listening while I talked to her of
things a child usually cares but little about. This is balm for many a
hurt, Outhwaite, and if it is given to her mother to look down upon us
two——"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>A smile, the rarest I had ever seen, finished the sentence. Seeing it,
and noting how it irradiated features which once bore the stamp of
deepest melancholy, I could never again look upon Leighton Gillespie
as an unhappy man.</p>
<h3>FINIS</h3>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>Works by Anna Katharine Green</h2>
<p>I.—<b>THE LEAVENWORTH CASE.</b> A Lawyer's Story. 4to, paper, 20 cents; 16°,
paper, 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.25</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"She has worked up a <i>cause célèbre</i> with a fertility of
device and ingenuity of treatment hardly second to Wilkie
Collins or Edgar Allan Poe."—<i>Christian Union.</i></p>
</div>
<p>II.—<b>BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.</b> 16°, paper 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"... She has never succeeded better in baffling the
reader."—<i>Boston Christian Register.</i></p>
</div>
<p>III.—<b>THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES.</b> A Story of New York Life. 16°, paper, 50
cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"'The Sword of Damocles' is a book of great power, which far
surpasses either of its predecessors from her pen, and
places her high among American writers. The plot is
complicated and is managed adroitly.... In the delineation
of characters she has shown both delicacy and
vigor."—<i>Congregationalist.</i></p>
</div>
<p>IV.—<b>X. Y. Z.: A DETECTIVE STORY.</b> 16°, paper <b>25 cents</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"Well written and extremely exciting and captivating.... She
is a perfect genius in the construction of a plot."—<i>N. Y.
Commercial Advertiser.</i></p>
</div>
<p>V.—<b>HAND AND RING.</b> 16°, paper, illustrated 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a tribute to the author's genius that she never tires
and never loses her readers.... It moves on clean and
healthy.... It is worked out powerfully and skilfully."—<i>N.
Y. Independent.</i></p>
</div>
<p>VI.—<b>A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE.</b> 16°, paper 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"A most ingenious and absorbingly interesting story. The
readers are held spell-bound until the last
page."—<i>Cincinnati Commercial.</i></p>
</div>
<p>VII.—<b>THE MILL MYSTERY.</b> 16°, paper 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<p>VIII.—<b>7 to 12: A DETECTIVE STORY.</b> Square 16°, paper <b>25 cents</b></p>
<p>IX.—<b>THE OLD STONE HOUSE, AND OTHER STORIES.</b> 16°, paper, 40 cents;
cloth <b>75 cents</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a bundle of quite cleverly constructed pieces of
fiction, with which an idle hour may be pleasantly
passed."—<i>N. Y. Independent.</i></p>
</div>
<p>X.—<b>CYNTHIA WAKEHAM'S MONEY.</b> With frontispiece. 16°, paper, 50 cents;
cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"'Cynthia Wakeham's Money' is a story notable even among the
many vigorous works of Anna Katharine Green."—<i>New York
Sun.</i></p>
</div>
<p>XI.—<b>MARKED "PERSONAL."</b> 16°, paper 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"The ingenious plot is built up with all the skill of the
writer of 'The Leavenworth Case' to the very last chapter,
which contains the surprising solutions of several
mysteries."</p>
</div>
<p>XII.—<b>MISS HURD: AN ENIGMA.</b> 16°, paper, 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"A strong and interesting novel in an entirely new field of
romance."</p>
</div>
<p>XIII.—<b>THE DOCTOR, HIS WIFE, AND THE CLOCK.</b> 32°, limp cloth <b>50 cents</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"The story is entertainingly told...."—<i>Cincinnati
Tribune.</i></p>
</div>
<p>XIV.—<b>DR. IZARD.</b> 16°, paper, 50 cents; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"Those who have read her other books will not need to be
urged to read this; they will be eager to do so, and we
assure them a very interesting story."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p>
</div>
<p>XV.—<b>THAT AFFAIR NEXT DOOR.</b> 16°, paper 50 cts.; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"Startling in its ingenuity and its wonderful
plot."—<i>Buffalo Enquirer.</i></p>
</div>
<p>XVI.—<b>LOST MAN'S LANE.</b> 16°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<p>XVII.—<b>AGATHA WEBB.</b> 16°, paper, 50 cts.; cloth <b>$1.25</b></p>
<p>XVIII.—<b>ONE OF MY SONS.</b> 16°, cloth only, illustrated <b>$1.50</b></p>
<p><b>X. Y. Z,</b> and <b>7 to 12</b>, together, 16°, cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<p><b>THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDE, AND OTHER POEMS.</b> 16°, cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<p><b>RISIFI'S DAUGHTER. A Drama.</b> 16°, cloth <b>$1.00</b></p>
<h3>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, New York and London</h3>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h3>WORKS BY</h3>
<h2>RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI</h2>
<p><b>The Crime Of the Century</b>. Hudson Library, No. 12. 16mo. $1.00; paper
50 cts.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is a tribute to the author's skill, that he never loses
a reader. For fertility in imagining a complex plot, and
holding the reader in ignorance of its solution until the
very end, we know of no one who can rival him."—<i>Toledo
Blade.</i></p>
<p>"The book deals with the subject involved in the most
powerful style that the author has shown. There is more
purpose and thought in it than in the other books."—<i>Boston
Globe.</i></p>
<p>"It is one of the best-told stories of its kind we have
read, and the reader will not be able to guess its ending
easily. It is ingeniously worked out without giving away the
true solution, and those who enjoy a well-written detective
story should not fail to read it."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p>
</div>
<p><b>An Artist in Crime</b>. 16mo, $1.00; paper 50 cts.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"One may safely say that it ranks with the best detective
novels yet published in this country."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p>
<p>"'An Artist in Crime' is the best detective story which has
been published in several years."—<i>New Haven Palladium.</i></p>
</div>
<p><b>A Conflict Of Evidence</b>. 16 mo, $1.00; paper 50 cts.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"This particular book is the best of its kind and just what
its title sets forth.... It is a masterpiece of consistent
theory, and will bear reading at any time and in any
place."—<i>Omaha Excelsior.</i></p>
<p>"An ingenious novel of the detective type.... The whole book
is one of interest, both in construction and in literary
execution, vastly superior to most of its general
class."—<i>New York Advertiser.</i></p>
</div>
<p><b>A Modern Wizard</b>. 16 mo, $1.00; paper 50 cts.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"The plot is ingeniously constructed, and the book is
intensely exciting."—<i>Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.</i></p>
<p>"The story is ingenious, the characters are dramatic, and
the evolution of the plot is natural."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p>
</div>
<p><b>Final proof</b>, or, The Value of Evidence. Hudson Library, No. 33. 16mo,
$1.00; paper 50 cts.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"Dr. Ottolengui has given us another of his powerfully
imaginative detective stories. The present one is a
continuation of 'An Artist in Crime' and 'The Crime of the
Century.' The problem in this story is shrewdly solved, and
the interest on the reader's part is kept up until the very
close."—<i>New Orleans Picayune.</i></p>
</div>
<h2>G. P. Putnam's Sons</h2>
<h3>NEW YORK AND LONDON</h3>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
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