Within the little
parlor all was bright and cheerful.
Familiar voices were heard greeting Mrs. Gibson and the children, and
men's footsteps soon sounded upon the stairs. Leopold entered first,
and, advancing to Rosa, handed her a large bouquet of beautiful red
roses.
"Sweets to the sweet, roses to Miss Rosa," said he, as he bowed and
presented them.
"They are beautiful," she exclaimed.
"All roses are considered so," he remarked with a smile.
While this little byplay was going on, Quincy had approached Alice, who,
as usual, was sitting by the window, and placed in her hand a small
bunch of flowers. As he did so he said in a low voice, "They are
forget-me-nots. There is a German song about them, of which I remember a
little," and he hummed a few measures.
"Oh! thank you," cried Alice, as she held the flowers before her eyes in
a vain effort to see them. "The music is pretty. Can't you remember any
of the words?"
"Only a few," replied Quincy. Then he repeated in a low, but clear
voice:
"There is the sweet flower
They call forget-me-not;
That flower place on thy breast,
And think of me.
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