n disappeared, and so Laura Nesbit vanished from the Spring
Chickens and appeared in Morty Sands's bower! Doctor Nesbit in those
days called Morty the "head gardener in the 'rosebud garden of girls!'"
And a lovely garden it was. Of course, it was more or less democratic;
for every one was going to be rich; every one was indeed just on the
verge of riches, and lines of caste were loosely drawn. For wealth was
the only line that marked the social differences. So when Henry Fenn,
the young county attorney, in his new evening clothes brought Margaret
Mueller of the Register of Deeds office to Morty Sands's dances, Margaret
had whatever social distinction her wits gave her; which upon the whole
was as much distinction as Rhoda Kollander had whose husband employed
Margaret. The press of the social duties in that day weighed heavily
upon Rhoda, who was not the woman to neglect her larger responsibilities
to so good a husband as John Kollander, by selfishly staying at home and
keeping house for him. She had a place in society to maintain, that the
flag of her country might not be sullied by barring John from a county
office.

The real queen-rose in the garden was Laura Nesbit. How vivid she was!
What lips she had in those days of her first full bloom, and what frank,
searching eyes! And her laugh--that chimed like bells through the
merriment of the youth that always was gathered about her--her laugh
could start a reaction in Morty Sands's heart as far as he could hear
the chime. It was a matter of common knowledge in the "crowd," that
Morty Sands had one supreme aim in life: the courtship of Laura Nesbit.
For her he lavished clothes upon himself until he became known as the
iridescent dream! For her he bought a high-seated cart of great price,
drawn by a black horse in white kid harness! For her he learned a whole
concert of Schubert's songs upon the mandolin and organized a serenading
quartette that wore the grass smooth under her window. For her candy,
flowers, books--usually gift books with padded covers, or with
handpainted decorations, or with sumptuous engravings upon them or in
them, sifted into the Nesbits' front room, and lay in a thick coating
upon the parlor table.

Someway these votive offerings didn't reach the heart of the goddess.
She rode beside him in his stanhope, and she wore his bouquets and read
his books, such as were intended for reading; and alas for her figure,
she ate his candy. But these things did n