Old Rose and Silver

Old Rose and Silver, by Myrtle
Reed

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Rose and Silver, by Myrtle Reed
#2 in our series by Myrtle Reed
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the
header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is
important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how
the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a
donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since
1971**
*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of
Volunteers!*****
Title: Old Rose and Silver
Author: Myrtle Reed

Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5401] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on July 6, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD ROSE
AND SILVER ***

Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team

OLD ROSE AND SILVER
BY MYRTLE REED

Author's Note
The music which appears in the following pages is from an
unpublished piano arrangement, by Grant Weber, of Wilson G. Smith's
"Entreaty," published by G. Schirmer, New York.
CONTENTS
I A FALLING STAR
II WELCOME HOME
III THE VOICE OF THE VIOLIN
IV THE CROSBY TWINS

V AN AFTERNOON CALL
VI THE LIGHT ON THE ALTAR
VII FATHER AND SON
VIII "THE YEAR'S AT THE SPRING"
IX A KNIGHT-ERRANT
X "SWEET-AND-TWENTY"
XI KEEPING THE FAITH
XII AN ENCHANTED HOUR
XIII WHITE GLOVES
XIV THE THIRTIETH OF JUNE
XV "HOW SHE WILL COME TO ME"
XVI HOW ISABEL CAME
XVII PENANCE
XVIII "LESS THAN THE DUST"
XIX OVER THE BAR
XX RISEN FROM THE DEAD
XXI SAVED--AND LOST
XXII A BIRTHDAY PARTY
XXIII "TEARS, IDLE TEARS"
XXIV THE HOUSE WHERE LOVE LIVED

I
A FALLING STAR
[Illustration: Musical Notation]
The last hushed chord died into silence, but the woman lingered,
dreaming over the keys. Firelight from the end of the room brought
red- gold gleams into the dusky softness of her hair and shadowed her
profile upon the opposite wall. No answering flash of jewels met the
questioning light--there was only a mellow glow from the necklace of
tourmalines, quaintly set, that lay upon the white lace of her gown.
She turned her face toward the fire as a flower seeks the sun, but her
deep eyes looked beyond it, into the fires of Life itself. A haunting
sense of unfulfilment stirred her to vague resentment, and she sighed as
she rose and moved restlessly about the room. She lighted the tall
candles that stood upon the mantel-shelf, straightened a rug, moved a
chair, and gathered up a handful of fallen rose-petals on her way to the
window. She was about to draw down the shade, but, instead, her hand
dropped slowly to her side, her fingers unclasped, and the crushed
crimson petals fluttered to the floor.
Outside, the purple dusk of Winter twilight lay soft upon the snow.
Through an opening in the evergreens the far horizon, grey as
mother-of- pearl, bent down to touch the plain in a misty line that was
definite yet not clear. At the left were the mountains, cold and calm,
veiled by distances dim with frost.
There was a step upon the stair, but the strong, straight figure in white
lace did not turn away from the window, even when the door opened.
The stillness was broken only by the cheerful crackle of the fire until a
sweet voice asked:
"Are you dreaming, Rose?"
Rose turned away from the window then, with a laugh. "Why, I must

have been. Will you have this chair, Aunt Francesca?"
She turned a high-backed rocker toward the fire and Madame Bernard
leaned back luxuriously, stretching her tiny feet to the blaze. She wore
grey satin slippers with high French heels and silver buckles. A bit of
grey silk stocking was visible between the buckle and the hem of her
grey gown.
Rose smiled at her in affectionate appreciation. The little old lady
seemed like a bit of Dresden china; she was so dainty and so frail. Her
hair was lustreless, snowy white, and beautifully, though simply,
dressed in a bygone fashion. Her blue eyes were so deep in colour as to
seem almost purple in certain lights, and the years had been kind to her,