The Vintage Romance Reader

Alone in the city, Marion struggles to survive. Desperate to find a small bit of happiness, she impulsively spends some of her hard-earned and terribly meager money on a season ticket to the symphony.

On the night of the second concert, something wonderful happens. There, on Marion's seat in the concert hall, lies a beautiful, dark crimson rose! And every week after that, she finds yet another beautiful rose waiting for her at the concert hall! Marion is torn between joy at receiving the beautiful flowers and worry at not knowing who could be sending them.

Then, suddenly, Marion's mystery flowers lead her into the confusing world of a wealthy man - and make her the target of a society beauty's dangerous envy...

Original Publisher: J.B. Lippincott
Original Year of Publication: 1928 [1992 reprint]
Page Count: 236


As the book opens, Marion Warren is sitting at her father's deathbed. She's spent the last five years nursing first her mother, then her father, through terminal illnesses. She has always been especially close to her father, so this is particularly hard on her. They had great plans for her life, including college and possibly a teaching career, which was all sidelined when her parents took ill.

While she's at her father's side, her sister-in-law is downstairs in the study, hiding a copy of the father's will. Jennie (said SIL) just knows Mr Warren is going to leave the family home to Marion, instead of leaving it to her husband, Tom, the eldest child and heir of the family. Jennie is very headstrong and wants to move back to the country with her husband and children, and would just love to have single, spinster Marion along as the maid of all work, governess, and companion. Jennie figures that what no one knows can't hurt them, or sideline her own plans.

Mr Warren dies, Tom feels obliged to care for his sister, but Marion wants to re-start her own life. She's 23 and determined to return to her education. Tom pressures her into giving up her share of the money from the sale of the family home, but Marion is determined to stay in the city, so she goes out one day and finds a small room and leans on a friend of her father's for a recommendation for a job. She does all of this very covertly, and thus Tom and Jennie are stunned when she tells them that she's not going with them. Jennie is furious, but Tom just figures that he has to let Marion have her head, and that she'll be begging to come to them soon enough, once she learns how hard it will be to be alone.

Marion starts her working life at the ribbon counter at a department store. She goes back to the family church and tries to make the acquaintance of her old school chums (including Isabel Cresson), but they shun her. The five years she's spent shut up in her family home caring for her ailing parents, Isabel and the other girls spent going to college and moving in society. They sneer at Marion's drab, unfashionable clothes and then proceed to ignore her. Marion is so intimidated that she retreats to the church kitchen to wash dishes!

She feels even more out of place at the department store, where the other working girls are fashionable flappers, with their bobbed hair, cheap jewelry, loads of makeup, and "indecent" clothes. Marion eschews makeup, drinks milk, and studies the fashions in the French department, because of course she's especially skilled in needlework and can rework her own clothes at least into modest fashion. She learns from a customer about tickets to the winter symphony season and decides to save her pennies so that she can attend. She's slowly starting to take up courses as well, and feels that being able to attend professional concerts each week will enhance her education, as well as bring her pleasure.

Marion buys a season ticket for a cheap seat in the balcony, and is surprised when a crimson rose is left in her seat at the second concert. She's certain that it's not meant for her, and feels guilty for keeping such a lovely object, even after no one comes to claim it. She even tries to turn it in to an usher at the end of the concert! Roses continue to appear in her seat each week, and she is confused but secretly pleased. She has no idea of where they are coming from, but they are a welcome little gift and she enjoys them - and the music - thoroughly.

At the next church social, Marion is introduced to Jefferson Lyman, a local boy made good whose grandparents helped found the church. Lyman takes special interest in Marion, even abandoning the fashionable crowd to speak to her, which rouses Isabel's jealousy. Lyman is the most eligible bachelor in town, and she has her eye on him as a potential husband. They are of the same social set, after all, whereas Marion is a little working girl. Isabel is so outraged at Lyman's indifference towards her that she actually shows up at the department store the next day and gives Marion an earful about how everyone is talking about her, being so shameless as to throw herself at Lyman and demand his attention, etc. Isabel makes a scene in front of customers, basically making a complete ass of herself, but Marion is mortified. What if Isabel is right? How dare she speak to someone who is so obviously her social better?

Isabel goes further, tricking Marion into accepting a ride to what she believes is a Christian Endeavor Society dinner, when in actuality it's a bunch of Isabel's coarse friends who kidnap Marion and take her to a roadhouse/speakeasy and basically assault her. Jefferson Lyman rides to her rescue (quite literally), which both infuriates and chastens Isabel.

Marion is torn about spending more time with Lyman, as she is acutely aware of their differences, but he is such a kind, attentive gentleman - plus, he's also a season ticket holder for the symphony! They spend a lot of time discussing the music, the orchestra, etc and she is in heaven with the lively, intelligent discussion. Between this, her roses, and her promotion at work to making silk flowers, all is going well!

The symphony season ends, and Marion feels this will be the end of both the roses and her acquaintance with Lyman, but he surprises her by inviting her to a special concert given by renowned pianist Jan Paderewski. She hesitantly accepts, vowing to starve herself so she can afford the alterations on a new dress so that she is elegant enough to attend in Lyman's presence. She is shocked when two dozen crimson roses are delivered to her at work on the day of the concert, but is so pleased that she shares her good fortune with her co-workers. She vows to enjoy this last concert with Lyman and then tell him who she *really* is, and how she's completely unworthy of his time or attention.

The two attend the concert, and then have a lavish dinner at the most elegant restaurant in the city. Marion stumbles and bumbles her way through her "explanation" of who she is, and Lyman basically laughs and tells her that he's known all along; he's heard stories of her generous father, and of course they attend the same church. He already knows she's a working girl, and confesses not only to visiting her counter (she didn't recognize him), but also that he's been the one sending her the crimson roses. He was standing behind her in line to buy the season tickets to the symphony and fell in love with her at first sight, and has been trying to woo her from afar because he wants to marry her. Marion is absolutely shell-shocked by these revelations, but agrees to marry him. The final chapters of the book detail their wedding plans and the start of their married life, including an excellent comeuppance scene with her brother and sister-in-law, who are absolutely stunned by Marion's sudden elevation in the world. She's a rich man's wife, but she's still the same Marion.

I enjoyed this story a great deal; I love anything that involves music, and have a soft spot for secret admirers. Unfortunately, Marion is frustratingly stupid for about 2/3s of this. She is built up as an independent, if timid, woman at the start, and she makes pretty darn strong strides to assert that independence after the death of her father. She goes into her working life with open eyes, determined to make the best of things, and actually finds her father's will after Tom and Jennie move out of the family house. She is heartsick, but also determined not to hold a grudge. Her brother didn't know about the will, so she can't blame him for doing what he believed was best at the time. She actually burns the will without ever showing it to him!

But after the initial setup, Marion proves to be a weak character. She is acutely distressed by her 'lower' social class, and spends a lot of time angsting about this - not only when comparing herself to the glamorous, wealthy Isabel and Lyman, but also with her flapper colleagues at the department store. She is also completely unaware of the origin of the crimson roses, even after Lyman shows up at her counter and asks her to make silk roses that are the same color! She doesn't believe him when he tells her that he was the admirer who was sending them the entire time. It's like - girl please, you cannot be that obtuse. It makes you look like a moron. I had little patience for all her angsting about how she wasn't good enough for Lyman, so I'm glad that the marriage proposal and wedding weren't especially drawn out for this reason.

The final chapters of the book are excellent, as Marion surprises her brother and sister-in-law by visiting them with her new husband after the wedding. They have such low opinions of her that they are sure she married a loser who wants to mooch off of them, so what a surprise they are in for when they meet the glamorous Lyman! He doesn't rub their noses in it, but Jennie has a complete comeapart, to the point of breaking down and confessing about hiding Mr Warren's will way back at the beginning of the story. Marion forgives her, of course, and Jennie is so grateful that she starts treating her like a human being.

Between this, and Isabel Cresson's wedding gift to the couple of "a paperweight in green jade in the form of an exquisitely carved little idol with the countenance of a Chinese devil," the novel ends on a high note.

⭐⭐⭐ 1/2

Life held little joy for Celia Murray. Forced by poverty to leave her aunt, who had been her only source of love and warmth, Celia goes to the city to find a job. There she tries to make the best of her new home: a dreary boarding house.

Then everything changes! Celia receives an unexpected inheritance and so sets about to make her dreams come true. She sends for her Aunt Hannah, and together they work a miraculous transformation on the old boarding house, making it into a place of warmth and laughter. Yet Celia struggles with a sense that there is something - or someone - missing.

Enter handsome Horace Stafford, minister of the mission chapel. At first Celia believes this is a man whose faith and compassion matches her own. But when a terrible misunderstanding comes between them, will Celia ever be able to confess, even to Horace, the deepest desire of her heart?

Original Publisher: The American Sunday School Union
Original Year of Publication: 1900 [1993 reprint]
Page Count: 246


Celia Murray is a lonely young lady in the big city of Philadelphia, who works at a ribbon counter and lives in a cheap boardinghouse. She'd love nothing more to than to bring her aunt Hannah to live with her. Hannah had raised her after her own parents' death, and is now stuck with Celia's ungrateful cousin Nettie, her husband, and her bratty kids out in the suburbs. Celia discovers that she is the heir of a family legacy from her late father's great uncle, which will give her enough income to buy the boardinghouse that she's living in and bring her aunt Hannah out to run it. Together, they plan on starting a little mission in the heart of the city: they'll fix up the boardinghouse, give the boarders decent meals and a nice place to live, and will encourage them to find religion. Their cause is greatly helped when one of the first new boarders to arrive is Horace Stafford, a missionary minister who's planting a new church nearby.

Aunt Hannah reminded me strongly of Aunt Crete. She's a kindly woman who has been sorely tried and tested by ungrateful relatives for most of her life. Hannah had planned to become a missionary as a young woman, with her theology student fiancé, before said fiancé's tragic death after he graduated from seminary. Once upon a time she wanted to go and save foreign heathens; she's delighted by the idea of having the chance to save some native heathens instead. She jumps in with two feet to make over the boardinghouse and minister to the boarders, of whom she grows quite fond.

Celia, on the other hand, basically falls at the first hurdle. She can talk the talk but she fails quite miserably at walking the walk. One of the boarders comes home drunk one night, and she's so horrified and afraid that she roundly ignores him, a young man she'd previously been quite friendly with. She overhears Horace talking to him and is unhappy that they are laughing together - Celia believes he should be preaching at him about his sins. Aunt Hannah tries to interest Celia in helping another of their boarders, a very young girl who works in a three-cent store and seems to admire Celia, but Celia is disdainful of her (the girl asks for beauty tips, how dare she!) and more or less only grudgingly assists her, all the time whining about how this is no way to bring new souls over to God. Aunt Hannah tries to explain that God works in mysterious ways, but for most of the book, Celia is having none of that.

She also makes a complete cake of herself, because she finds a picture of a beautiful young woman in Horace Stafford's room and immediately assumes that this is his sweetheart, so she acts cold and distant around him even though she's in love with him. When one of the boarders tells her that it'd be nice if they got married, Celia gets actively angry at the idea. Of course, the girl in the picture is not Horace's sweetheart, and Celia - quite rightly! - feels like a complete idiot when she learns the truth.

The boarders are a found family, and I enjoyed the parts of the story about fixing up the boardinghouse. I really liked aunt Hannah; if she had been the main character instead of Celia, my rating would've been higher. There are strands of romance, mostly blink-and-you'll-miss-them, but what's there is sweet.

This was originally published in 1900 by the American Sunday School Union, which should tell you all you need to know, LOL. This is one of GLH's earliest works and oof, does it show. It's almost written like fanfic, with long quoted passages of verses, songs, poems, etc. There's even a note at the beginning from GLH's daughter, warning readers that it's an early work and that her mother hadn't yet "developed her mature writing style" o.O I'd say that this one is for GLH completionists only.

⭐⭐

Meek, work-worn Aunt Crete didn't mind staying home while her sister and niece hurried off to the seashore for a holiday with their high-society friends. The thought of having her other sister's son, Donald, all to herself brought unaccustomed happiness to Aunt Crete's heart. But how was she going to explain Carrie and Luella's rude departure to the man they had scorned as a "backwoods cousin," even though none of them had ever met him? Ah well, Aunt Crete knew she would love Donald, no matter what.

But the man who comes knocking on Aunt Crete's door is tall and handsome - and it quickly becomes clear that the disapproving Carrie and selfish Luella have made a decision they will come to regret. Aunt Crete alone enters a fairy-tale world her benevolent nephew has come to offer...

Original Publisher: The Golden Rule Company
Original Year of Publication: 1911 [1994 reprint]
Page Count: 93

This is an absolute gem of a story, a beautiful feel-good novella that hits all of the right buttons. At less than 100 pages, it's also easily read in one sitting. This is not a romance novel, but it is a love story: a powerful testament of the healing power of pure, familial love.

Miss Lucretia Ward is an aging spinster lady, dependent on her sister as a poor relation. She lives with her sister, Carrie, and her niece, Luella; they treat her as little more than a maid-of-all-work. Aunt Crete is responsible for the cooking, cleaning, mending, and organization of the household. She's been told all her life that she must earn her keep, and this she does without complaint, even with Carrie and Luella constantly blaming everything bad about their lives on Crete. Crete was much closer to her other sister, Hannah, who married and unfortunately moved out West, leaving Crete at the mercy of her selfish relations.

Luella is a social climber, albeit a pretty inept one; she has set her cap at Clarence Grandon, scion of a powerful New York family. Luella insists that her family toe a very thin line to boost her chances with Clarence, and has an absolute comeapart when the family receives a telegram from the long-dead Hannah's son, Donald Grant, who announces that he's traveling East and wants to meet them for the first time. Luella insists that Donald can be little more than a "backwoods country cousin" and his sudden appearance will absolutely ruin her, socially. She convinces her mother that they need to leave for the Jersey shore now, before Donald arrives, so she can further her plans for grabbing Clarence's attention.

Crete isn't going with her sister and niece; she's never accompanied them, always being left behind to her interminable chores. She doesn't mind, this time, however; she is thrilled with the idea of meeting Hannah's son and could care less how much of a country bumpkin he may be. She secretly delights in the idea of having him all to herself for a few days.

So Carrie and Luella depart, running into a handsome young man at the station who immediately catches Luella's eye. He seems to be studying her quite curiously as well, which she takes as a feather in her cap. She makes a few disparaging remarks about "running away from her backwoods cousin," which the young man overhears.

This man is, of course, Luella's cousin, Donald Grant. Far from being a country bumpkin, he is instead quite urbane and cultured - and rich, having struck gold in the Klondike. Donald travels on to his relatives' house and is absolutely delighted to meet Aunt Crete, who welcomes him with open arms. She lets slip that Carrie and Luella are at the shore, which confirms Donald's suspicions that he *had* inadvertently met them at the train station. After breakfast, he insists that Crete take a nap, which she very reluctantly does, and Donald intercepts a phone call from the whiny Luella, who's calling to give Crete a bevy of last-minute orders. She talks so much and so fast that she doesn't let him get a word in edgewise, and doesn't realize that she's showing her ass to her cousin. Donald is incensed by this barrage of demands, and pieces together how badly Carrie and Luella treat Crete. He's determined to (1) care for his beloved Aunt as she's never been cared for before, and (2) give his cousin a little payback.

Donald wheedles details from Crete about where their relatives have gone, and convinces her that she, too, deserves a vacation at the ocean. Crete is mesmerized by the idea of seeing the ocean, and is absolutely overwhelmed when Donald sets out to fit her up with brand new clothes (she wears Luella's hand-me-downs) and a travelling trunk. The scenes where the two are shopping are just beautiful, as we slowly see Aunt Crete blossom into her own woman, with even the subtlest changes to her wardrobe. She doesn't have to look dumpy and old; she can be elegant and beautiful. She takes a beautiful, innocent childlike delight in everything, which only makes Donald love her all the more and wish for nothing but her happiness. He's determined to give Crete everything that had been held back from her over the course of her life.

He frames their vacation to the shore as a chance to "surprise" their relatives there. He does want to meet these awful, selfish women who treat Crete so badly, if only to determine if his worst fears are true. So he plans quite carefully, but never maliciously. He and Crete are staying at the same hotel as Carrie and Luella; Donald's wealth means that they can stay on a beautiful floor with ocean views, while penny-pinching Carrie and Luella are basically in a room over the kitchen in the back alley. Donald takes Crete down to the beach and they go swimming, which Crete absolutely adores. He hires a French maid to assist Crete with dressing for dinners, and proudly introduces her to all of his friends - for he has lots of friends, in quite high (society) places, including Luella's beloved Clarence Grandon.

Carrie and Luella don't even recognize Crete when they see her, and they watch her quite enviously before Donald makes his move to bring the family together. Carrie and Luella are such obvious, grasping wannabees that they do more harm than good in their quest to meet Quality, but of course they don't realize how obvious they are. Crete, on the other hand, has taken to elegant company like a fish to water; she is naturally kind, calm, and sweet, and her attitude as much as her clothes transform her physical being.

Donald brings Carrie and Luella to the suite of rooms he's sharing with Crete and the sparks fly. They are exceptionally angry that the beautiful woman they've been admiring is their poor relation! Not even a lovely evening at dinner and a show can warm their envious hearts; when they all return to the hotel, Luella and Carrie sneak back to Crete's room and basically ream her out for even daring to put a foot on the same shore as them, and in such costume, no less! Luella really lets loose; she reaches almost total catharsis in taking out all her woes and jealousy at her sweet old aunt.

Donald overhears it all and basically puts a stop to the nonsense - but not by sinking to Luella's level. He challenges them as to why they think Crete doesn't deserve everything he's given her, of his own free will. Learning that he's rich - and BFFs with Clarence Grandon - just makes Luella and Carrie even more upset, because they realize what idiots they have been in service to their prejudices. They go back to their own room to stew in the mess they've created, now with the knowledge that Clarence Grandon is also engaged to someone else and barely even knows who Luella is (ha!).

Crete is also upset by their rantings and ravings, even though she has been dreading just such a scene ever since they arrived on the shore. Donald then tells her that what he really wants to do is take her away from the drudgery of her current life. He wants her to go back West with him, and basically be his mother - to serve as hostess and chatelaine of his house (with an army of servants to direct), to accompany him on his business trips to Europe and other exotic locales, to take up any hobbies or interests she wants at her leisure; and basically live her own life on her own terms.

This is basically Crete's dream come true, and she accepts in a heartbeat. Donald has shown her the other side of life and convinced her that she deserves it, and she welcomes it with open arms. She is such a sweet creature, and Donald is so loving and caring, that it's just a beautiful scene.

Donald announces their 'partnership' to his relatives, and continues to treat his aunt and cousin to treats, trinkets, and events before he and Crete depart. Carrie and Luella believe that Crete will come back to them and hand over all of her lovely gowns to Luella, but they soon realize they no longer have power over her. The ending is just *chef's kiss* perfect.

I can definitely see this little story become an all-time favorite re-read. It is the right kind of religious fiction: there is no explicit "God stuff" wedged in; instead, Donald models perfectly how to treat his awful relatives with Christian kindness, and how living your best life really is the sweetest revenge.

I'd recommend this to anyone who needs an uplifting story.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐