122 
THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
Helen. “ But we can’t invite young men to your party; 
we must only invite little boys, you know.” 
“Well, he is only a big boy,” protested Pollydeen; 
“ that is, he wasn’t very much grown up, and he gave 
me some of his candy and I gave him some of my pea¬ 
nuts, and we tried to see which could eat the fastest.” 
“ I’m afraid he was too big a boy to invite to a chil¬ 
dren’s party,” said Helen doubtfully. 
“Why, no he wasn’t,” insisted Pollydeen, “I know 
he would like to come, and perhaps he would bring me 
some molasses chips.” 
“ About how large should you think he might be?' 5 
questioned the doubter. 
“ Oh, about—well he was a little bigger than J am,” 
admitted Pollydeen, whose conscience, though elastic, 
would not allow her to reduce John Hathaway’s six feet 
to less than her own size! 
So among the notes of invitation was written the fol¬ 
lowing: 
“ Miss Paulina Elizabeth Dean presents her compli¬ 
ments to Mr. John Hathaway, and requests his presence 
at her garden party at four o’clock in the afternoon of 
June 9, at the residence of D. W. Forester, 123 B- 
Street.” 
This note John Hathaway, lawyer, broad-shouldered 
and six feet in his stockings, found at his boarding 
place one night on returning from his office. Who Miss 
Paulina Elizabeth Dean was, he had not the remotest 
idea, and he turned the note over and over and upside 
down, as if a change of position might be productive 
of an explanation. There was nothing at all singular 
in the fact of the handsome young lawyer having re¬ 
ceived such a note. Indeed during the few months that 
he had been located in Fitchburg invitations had poured 
in upon him. Neither was it especially singular that 
the name of the sender was unknown to him, in a place 
where most ladies were strangers to him, and he could 
not recall the names of the few whom he had met. The 
singular part of the affair was that he felt strongly im¬ 
pelled to accept the invitation instead of, as usual, de¬ 
clining. For John Hathaway, pleasant and genial to¬ 
ward his own sex, and attractive to children, was 
painfully shy in the presence of ladies, and usually 
shunned general society; though if he could have over¬ 
come his timidity few young men could have outshone 
him in any society. For besides being a thoroughly 
good young man, he had unusual mental gifts and at¬ 
tainments which were sure to bring him success in 
society as well as in his profession. He was not, how¬ 
ever, dependent upon his profession, being a young man 
of good family and large fortune, who had taken up a 
profession simply because his honest soul despised a life 
of useless inactivity. 
The day before Pollydeen’s party, it occurred to John 
Hathaway that perhaps he ought to send a bouquet to 
Miss Dean. It seemed to this modest and unsophisti¬ 
cated lawyer that he had somewhere heard that it was 
the proper thing to do, so he went into a florist’s to make 
a selection. This was new business to our hero, and 
the great variety of flowers so confused him that he 
new not which to select, and finally told the smiling 
maiden who officiated to make up one “ as it should 
be.” 
But after having thus left the matter to her taste, he 
began to exercise his own by suggesting, “wouldn’t a 
few of these Pansies look well in it?” and, “put in a 
bunch of these Carnations if you please, “ the result of 
which was a large and gorgeous bouquet. Then just as 
he had paid for the bouquet and turned to leave, he no¬ 
ticed some English Violets, which were his favorite 
flowers; he must send some of those. So he chose a little 
basket and had a quantity of the Violets with sprays of 
Smilax put into it, and going back triumphant to his 
office, despatched the office boy to D. W. Forester’s 
with them all. 
The servant who answered the bell took the flowers 
up to Helen’s room where Pollydeen was having her 
party dress tried on. Helen exclaimed over the Vio¬ 
lets, and Pollydeen declared “ there never was such a 
splendid bouquet.” A card attached to the latter bore 
the name, Miss Paulina Elizabeth Dean, but not the 
name of the donor, while the basket of Violets bore no 
mark. 
“They must have been sent to you, Helen,” said 
Pollydeen, “ for they are just the color of your eyes, 
and, oh! wont they look lovely in your hair.” And she 
insisted that Helen should keep and wear them. But 
neither of them could imagine who had sent the 
flowers. 
The next day came and so did the party. Pollydeen 
had refused Helen’s suggestion that a few such flowers 
from the bouquet as would best suit her dark eyes and 
brown curls should be fastened at her throat and a 
small nosegay made for her to carry, but insisted on 
receiving her little guests with that great bouquet in her 
hand ! But after they had commenced to play games 
oii the lawn she found it very much in her way, yet she 
could not bear to part with it. At the suggestion of 
one of her little friends she finally tied it to a ribbon 
and hung it around her neck, but still it was in the way. 
Then she turned the ribbon around so that the bouquet 
hung down behind instead of in front, where it proved 
less troublesome, and it never occurred to her that it 
was a very unusual way of disposing of a bouquet. 
Meantime John Hathaway arrived, and, walking up 
the path toward the house, found himself confronted 
by a vision of loveliness—Helen, all in white, with 
English Violets massed in the square corsage of her 
dress and drooping from her rich blonde hair, while her 
violet eyes looked inquiringly at this tall intruder. 
“Surely this must be Miss Dean,” he thought, “for 
those are the Violets I sent.” 
“ I—I was invited to a party here, I believe, by Miss 
Dean,” explained the embarrassed lawyer, handing her 
his card. 
But before she could look at it, Pollydeen had seen 
him and come tearing down the walk to greet him. 
“ Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come ! ” she cried. “ It’s my 
railroad friend, Helen. Have you got any chips in 
your pocket this time, sir ? ” 
“ Not a chip,” laughed Mr. Hathaway. “ So you are 
Miss Dean, are you?” 
“Why, of course I am. Didn’t you know my 
name ? ” 
But at this moment Pollydeen was called, and she 
rushed unceremoniously away, and as she ran that 
great bouquet was seen bobbing up and down on her 
back in a manner that was indescribably ludicrous, and 
Mr. Hathaway and Helen burst into merry laughter, 
strangers though they were to each other. 
“I beg your pardon,” said he as soon as he could 
speak, “but that bouquet was too much for me ! ” 
