CHAPTER XXVII.
VISITORS AT "GLADSWOOD"--THE FISHING EXCURSION.
An interesting trio graced the cosey parlor of "Gladswood" on this
glorious September eve. The balmy breeze stole softly through, the
open casement of the old-fashioned lattice window, and shed its
fragrance profusely.
"Really, Jennie, this is more like an evening in June than
September. Why one seems to think there must surely be some of the
roses around."
"And so there are, my dear," said Jennie Montgomery, taking Helen
Rushton by the arm and pointing to a small flower stand whereon sat
a fragrant rose bush crowned with tea roses.
"They are indeed magnificent, Jennie, but I meant the little June
roses that made such a gorgeous sight the morning that Madge and I
arrived _sans ceremonie_."
"You prefer wild flowers to the more brilliant sisterhood of the
hothouse, Miss Rushton," exclaimed Mr. Lawson with an air of
interest.
"I must confess that I do Mr. Lawson, they seem so natural, so pure
and so unaffected. They are always associated with life as it should
be, and not as it is."
"Helen you are a darling," cried Jennie Montgomery, "those are just
my ideas too.
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