WHEN Vernon went into the Senate that Tuesday morning and saw the red
rose lying on his desk he smiled, and picking it up, raised it eagerly
to his face. But when he glanced about the chamber and saw that a rose
lay on every other desk, his smile was suddenly lost in a stare of
amazement. Once or twice, perhaps, flowers had been placed by
constituents on the desks of certain senators, but never had a floral
distribution, at once so modest and impartial, been made before. Several
senators, already in their seats, saw the check this impartiality gave
Vernon's vanity, and they laughed. Their laughter was of a tone with the
tinkle of the crystal prisms of the chandeliers, chiming in the breeze
that came through the open windows.
The lieutenant-governor was just ascending to his place. He dropped his
gavel to the sounding-board of his desk.
"The Senate will be in order," he said.
The chaplain rose, and the hum of voices in the chamber ceased. Then,
while the senators stood with bowed heads, Vernon saw the card that lay
on the desk beside the rose. Two little jewels of the moisture that
still sparkled on the rose's petals shone on the glazed surface of the
card. Vernon read it where it lay.
"Will the Hon. Morley Vernon please to wear this rose to-day as a token
of his intention to support and vote for House Joint Resolution No. 19,
proposing an amendment to Section 1, Article VII, of the Constitution?"