The Soul of the Rose by Trippy Ruth

Author:Trippy, Ruth [Trippy, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Abingdon Press
Published: 2013-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

17

In the coming days having Jack as a guest gave Edward ample opportunity to be both subtle and direct. Never had he felt his powers to persuade and cajole more in evidence. If his father, the lawyer, could have seen the way he cross-examined this young man, being both conniving and open, he would have been well pleased.

Jack and he sat over coffee one morning. Edward asked him, what had he read recently? What did he think of this particular scientist? Did he have any intellectual interests outside his religion? But on this last Edward hit a rock he hoped wouldn’t prove to be his stumbling stone—for he saw that Jack and Celia shared the same beliefs.

Other than that, Jack showed himself to be an ordinary American, the kind who was not a scientist, a philosopher, or even much of a reader. He was familiar with only a few books beyond the Bible. Edward could see he was practical rather than speculative. In fact, Jack was little concerned with intellectual questions of any kind.

Could Celia be trusted to see this?

A week later when Jack was to leave for home, Edward offered his carriage for the ride to the train station but decided not to accompany him. He must leave Celia to say goodbye in private. Then, after she saw Jack off at the train station, Edward had arranged for her to come to his home. He wanted her to preview what he hoped to enter in the flower show. Already blooms were showing themselves in the conservatory.

When the carriage finally arrived, he did not wait for it to stop before he was out the door to assist her down. She was looking uncommonly well, in a dusty blue full-skirted frock with matching wrap. His heart gave an uncomfortable lurch. She had taken special care in her dress and appearance to see Jack off. Descending the carriage her eyes were friendly as they looked up into his, but was there a trace of sadness, of melancholy perhaps?

“Thank you for inviting me to a preview of your roses,” she said. “In your conservatory?”

He thought her quite businesslike in her address. This did not bode well for finding out what was really in her heart. He offered his arm. “Before we go into the greenhouse, I’d like to show you the roses at the back of the house.”

“You have roses in both places?”

“The flowers for the show will probably come from the garden. But to cover my bets, I grew some in the conservatory.”

“Ah!” She laughed. “You will be a hard man to beat.”

“Competition raises my blood. You are entering, of course.”

“Mrs. Chestley has a climber that’s done middling in past years. She said I was welcome to it if I could make it flower better. I think one of her problems is that she seldom fertilizes. Too busy. I asked one of the farmers at church to bring me some manure; in addition, every once in awhile I throw dishwater over the plant.

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