Rose petal

“ Love—great, solemn, immortal Love, passionate and suffering—was a thing unknown to comfortable, commonplace Rose, as doubtless to Peter also. They were dear, good people, and fortunate in their ignorance and in what it spared them; but it was annoying when ignorance assumed superior knowledge, and wanted to teach its grandmother to suck eggs. Was it come to this—that marriage and a family were synonymous terms? No, indeed, nor ever would, while intelligent men and women walked the earth. Deb reserved the more sacred confidences for Mary's ear. ”

“ She knew at once it was Peter’s voice, but in her joy and excitement she forgot to open the door, running back into the prayer-meeting room and crying out, “Peter is out of prison! Peter is at the door.” All arose from their knees and said, “Rose, you must be crazy to talk like that.” “No, I am not,” she said; “it is Peter!”
“Isn’t it too bad?” said one, “Herod has already killed Peter, not waiting until to-morrow; and God has sent Peter’s angel to comfort us.” “No,” cried Rose; “no, it is not Peter’s angel; it is Peter himself! I know I am right! ”

“ He had a delicate-fingered way of touching everything, as if the creative process were a little one, of small simplicities: not as if art were long.
When she appeared that morning, behind the hollyhocks, Rose was about to spring up, and Peter did stand, expectant, with his charming smile. Electra at once made proper disclaimers, and insisted that the sitter's pose should not be broken and that it would be an immense entertainment to see the work go on. Peter brought a chair out of the arbor, and she sat down, erect and handsome, while Rose sank back into her unconstrained reclining. ”

“ In some moods Peter had a habit of not waiting for answers.
"It's beyond me how they do those things," he was saying, "drive, ride, swim. Shouldn't you like to be a fish? I should be mighty proud."
"Shall I leave you here?" asked Electra, drawing up at his gate.
Peter came out of his childish muse. He saw Rose in the garden, and knew it was better that Electra should find her alone.
"Yes, let me out," he said. "I'll run back and see if Osmond is where I left him."
Electra also had seen Rose, lying in the long chair under the grape arbor, and left her carriage at the gate. Rose was in white. ”

“ Electra gave him a quick look, and then went on watching. At the tone Rose also was recalled. She shook herself a little, as if she threw off dreams. Her hand upon the cabinet relaxed. Her face softened, the pose of her body yielded, She seemed almost, by some power of the will, to bring new color into her cheeks. Peter had drawn forward her chair, and she took it smilingly.
"I'm not accustomed to long-lost fathers appearing unannounced," she said whimsically. "Dear me! What if he brings me a Paris gown!" ”

“ Madame Bernard, for the thousandth time, looked at her curiously. From the shapely foot that tapped restlessly on the rug beneath her white lace gown, to the crown of dusky hair with red- gold lights in it, Rose was made for love—and Madame wondered how she had happened to miss it.
"Aunt Francesca," said Rose, with a whimsical sadness, "do you realise that I'm forty to-day?"
"That's nothing," returned the other, serenely. "Everybody has been forty, or will be, if they live."
"I haven't lived yet," Rose objected. "I've only been alive." ”

“ Petrea hesitated only a moment; in the next she had clambered up to her little bed, taken down the picture, and hastened now with beaming eyes and glowing cheeks to the others, in order to give away the very loveliest thing she had, and to declare solemnly that now "Sara was the possessor of the Girl and the Rose-bush."
The little African appeared very indifferent about the sacrifice which the little European had made to her. She received it, it is true, but she soon laid it down again without caring any more about it, which occasioned Louise to propose that she should keep it for her. ”

“ She hated Rose’s conjectures all the more that she now shared them herself.
“It will be dreadful for some people at the inquest,” continued her sister-in-law.
“Dreadful! how dreadful?—You don’t mean Stella’s to blame, do you?”
“Oh, of course, I don’t mean she’s really done anything wicked—but she let poor Peter go on loving her when she knew it was wrong.”
“How could she have stopped him?—supposing it’s true that he did love her.”
“Any girl can stop a man loving her,” said Rose mysteriously.
“Oh, can she?—it’s obvious you’ve never had to try.” ”

“ How could you do it, Mac?” And a whole face full of smiles broke loose as Rose clapped her hands, looking as if she could dance with sheer delight.
“It did itself, up there among the hills, and here with you, or out alone upon the sea. I could write a heavenly poem this very minute, and put you in as Spring you look like her in that green gown with snowdrops in your bonny hair. Rose, am I getting on a little? Does a hint of fame help me nearer to the prize I'm working for? Is your heart more willing to be won?” ”

“ He wondered—was he falling in love? It was silly to fall in love with Stella, who was six years older than he ... though people said that when boys fell in love it was generally with women older than themselves. But he mustn’t do it. Stella was Peter’s.... Was she?... Or was it merely true that he wanted to take her and she wanted to be taken?
He did not think there was any engagement, any promise. Circumstances might finally keep them apart. Rose, Doris, Jenny, his father and mother—the whole family—did not want Peter to marry Stella Mount whose face was her fortune. ”

“ She is such a frail creature she won't trouble anyone long, perhaps, and I should like to give her just a taste of comfort, if not love, before she finds her 'Marmar' again.”
“Lead Rosa I'm going to take this child home, and if Uncle is willing, I'll adopt her, and she shall be happy!” cried Rose, with the sudden glow of feeling that always made her lovely. And gathering poor baby close, she went on her way like a modern Britomart, ready to redress the wrongs of any who had need of her. ”

“ A more observant man might have been touched by the suggestion that she was unfolding petal by petal like a flower, and that each carefully chosen costume was a new petal. He did not in the least suspect the reverent eagerness of her care of herself as an object hoping to render itself worthy of his qualities and tastes. ”

“ Wonder if all blind people do?”
“Don't think about them; I'll go on reading, shall I? We shall come to the exciting part soon, and then you'll forget all this,” suggested Rose.
“No, I never shall forget. Hang the old 'Revolution'! I don't want to hear another word of it. My head aches, and I'm hot. Oh, wouldn't I like to go for a pull in the 'Stormy Petrel!”' and poor Mac tossed about as if he did not know what to do with himself.
“Let me sing, and perhaps you'll drop off; then the day will seem shorter,” said Rose, taking up a fan and sitting down beside him. ”

“ What will, what can, disturb a love like ours? It is the talisman, before which the nightly images all fly."
At this moment Rose appeared to Peregrine like a higher being, and each of her words like the consolations of Heaven. An indescribable feeling of the purest delight streamed through him, like the sweet mild breath of spring. He was no longer the sinner, the impious presumer, which he had before held himself; he began to think with joy that he was worthy of the love of the innocent Rose.
The bookbinder, Lemmerhirt, now returned with his family from a walk. ”

“ O’Gorman; but she’s got Julia. But I like being among flowers, even though they’re cut, and I like Mrs. Lovell, and I think that’s a Heaven-sent opening. Almost no one arranges flowers as a profession now. The only one I’ve heard of is a little Japanese man. So we shall have the field to ourselves. It’s fun to be doing something original.”
And soon afterwards she went.
Of this part of Rose’s life I have little to say. I can tell only what I know at first hand. Whenever I was in London—but that was very seldom—I called at the florist’s; and Rose came down for Sundays now and then. ”

“ I'm proud of you only don't grow quite out of sight, or even be ashamed to look a woman in the face,” answered Rose, with a gentle pat on the cheek of either bashful young giant, for both were red as peonies, though their boyish eyes were as clear and calm as summer lakes. ”

“ In them was infinite possibility of more pleasure, more delight. And there was his broken heart! For Peter's heart was truly broken. That he knew. He had lost Rose, for she had gravely told him so, and given the simple reason, if he needed it. There was no man for her but one. And the one was Osmond, to whom he would gladly relinquish even the delight of her. So, thinking of his brother who was the best thing born, of his broken heart, of his pictures and the general adorableness of the world, crammed full of things to paint, Peter threw his stick into the air, caught it, and burst into song. ”

“ It must be God himself who has enlightened thy childish mind.”
“O, I know you very well,” said Peterken. “When I lead Rosa about to beg, she always talks of you. She says that you are tall, and have dark, fiery eyes; and that you will come back again, and bring us all such beautiful things. And so I was not afraid of you, good sir; for Rosa had bade me to love you, and you are to give me a bow and arrow.”
The child’s simple confidence made the traveler perfectly happy. He kissed him hastily, and with tenderness, and said in a solemn tone—
“Father—mother—this child is rich! ”

“ The glad surprise excited by this sudden realization of a latent hope put maidenly reserve to flight, and Rosa dropped on her knees before him, exclaiming, "O Gerald, save us!"
He raised her tenderly, and, imprinting a kiss on her forehead, said: "Save you, my precious Rose? To be sure I will. That's what I came for."
"And me too," said Flora, clinging to him, and hiding her face under his arm.
"Yes, and you too, mischievous fairy," replied he, giving her a less ceremonious kiss than he had bestowed on her sister. "But we must talk fast, for there is a great deal to be done in a short time. ”

“ But the spirit of Eve is strong in all her daughters: forbidden fruit will look rosier to them than any in their own orchards, and the temptation to take just one little bite proves irresistible to the wisest. So Rose, looking out from the safe seclusion of her girlhood into the woman's kingdom which she was about to take possession of, felt a sudden wish to try its pleasures before assuming its responsibilities, and was too sincere to hide the longing. ”

“ As to Rose, he is a fine fellow, certainly he is, and complains that he has no one, all through London, in whom he can confide. O that you were well enough to assist him in London! You are not fit to move of yourself, but you would act through Rose as spirit acts on external matter through a body. ”

“ Rose had been between them. But she listened with an attentive gravity.
"We must go back to Paris," Peter was urging. "I shall work there. We will live simply and turn in everything to the Brotherhood. We must be married—dear." He looked direct and manly, not boyish, now, and she felt a sudden pride in him. "Electra, you'll go with me?" ”

“ Rose forgot all about her picture and sat up, looking quite in earnest. Peter held his brush reproachfully poised.
"I tell you what I can do," she said, after a moment's thinking. "I can give a little talk on contemporary music—what they are doing in France, in Germany. I can give some personal data about living musicians—things they wouldn't mind. And I really sing very well. Peter, boy, tell the lady I sing well."
"She sings adorably," said Peter. "She has a nightingale in her throat:—
"'Two larks and a thrush,
All the birds in the bush.'
"You never heard anything more sympathetic. ”

“ But the elves replied, as they pointed to a cluster of heart's-ease, dying for want of sun and air in the shadow of Lily's broad leaves: "In your white bosom lies a haughty heart, careless of all things but itself. We cannot crown you till you have learned the beauty of humility."
Blushing with anger, the Rose demanded, as they passed her by: "Do you not see me? Am I not the queen of flowers, royal and sweet? Give me the crown: it is my right."
But soft hands put the thorny branches back, and the elfin voices whispered: "Passion makes no flower fair, however royal be its birth. ”

“ What became of her none could tell; her disappearance was not disclosed to Sir Peter till the following day, and then he showed by his anxiety to trace her steps and to find her, that his words had been but idle threats. The truth was, that though Sir Peter went to frightful lengths to prevent the marriage of the heir of his house with the portionless orphan, the object of his charity, yet in his heart he loved Rosina, and half his violence to her rose from anger at himself for treating her so ill. ”

“ One morning a busy breeze came through the garden, proclaiming that a messenger from Fairyland was on his way, and bidding them prepare to greet him. Then every flower spread her colored leaves, opened her cells, and put on her dew-drop ornaments, till each glittered in the sun. Soon they saw the Honey-king approaching, for he had been to Elf-land with his tribute of sweets to the Queen, and brought her message back.
"See!" cried the Rose, "see his velvet cloak, the golden bands on his breast, the gleam of his wings, and hear his deep voice as he sings on his way. ”

“ And what a Peter! He looked like a runner—not a spent one, either—with the news of victory. It was in his face, his flushed cheeks and flaming eyes, but chiefly in the air he brought with him—all tension and immoderate joy. Electra held her hands tight together and looked at him. Rose got half out of her chair. In those days when she thought continually of her own affairs, it seemed to her that nothing could be so important unless it had to do with her. Billy Stark by the door waited, and it was Madam Fulton who spoke, irritated at the vague excitement. ”