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The poor girl let her husband come and go without saying a word, and her head fell on her breast. Dobbin had been called away, and was whispering deep in conversation with the General of the division, his friend, and had not seen this last parting. George went away then with the bouquet; but when he gave it to the owner, there lay a note, coiled like a snake among the flowers.
And then, turning her face upwards, Olive watched many a fair white butterfly, that, having flitted awhile among the flowers, spread its wings and rose far into the air, like a pure soul weary of earth, and floating heavenward. How she wished that she could do likewise; and leaving earth behind its flowers as well as weeds, its sunshine as its storm soar into another and a higher existence!
Did she tell them about her friend, about the kind of pictures of which the fountain reminded her, about the vivid, lively memories that the tree with the pink flowers the almond tree in the corner of the gardens you could just see it from the nursery window called to her mind; she knew that she would be punished put in the corner, or even sent to bed.
I am a hopeless, painful contradiction; I have always been so. I have always wanted to be good, but something has always driven me where the flowers have a poisonous sweetness, where the heart grows bad. I want to cry to you, Ian, to help me to be good; and yet something drives me on to want to share with you the fruit which turns to dust and ashes in the long end.
"I'm afraid I didn't think much of Uncle Bernard; I was too busy thinking of myself. I want to have a good time!" she said bluntly. "It's a lovely, lovely house, and the grounds are lovely, and the spring flowers are coming up, and we can live out of doors, and be as happy as the day is long. I am not going to worry my head about the money, or anything else.
Well, we roamed along through the beautiful walks, sweet with perfume and balmy with flowers, brilliant with innumerable lights, and thronged with a gaily dressed crowd and the air throbbing with entrancing strains of music. Robert Strong looked noble and handsome that night; I wuz proud to think he belonged to our party.
Yet all about us the country was so lovely and so tranquil, horses were walking the fields, and, even as we sat at dinner, we could hear the voices and the heavy feet of the peasant women as they went home from their work. The garden had never been more beautiful than it was that evening, with the silver light of the moon through the trees, and the smell of the freshly watered earth and flowers.
There are no grassy lawns in these gardens: they are devoted to fruit, shrubs, and flowers, bisected into equal divisions by tiled or grass paths. People in Morocco, as all the world over, collect curiosities nolens volens. Mr. Bewicke's dining-room was no exception.
But as it was necessary to keep some rosettes through the winter in order to have biennial flowering plants to furnish seeds, I selected in August about 30 of the most vigorous plants, planted them on another bed and gave them sufficient room for their stems and branches in the following summer. Most of them sent up robust shoots, but no difference was noted till the first flowers opened.
The row of sweet peas that my wife had planted near the cabin helped to put heart into those travel-weary pioneers; where flowers could be planted, a home could be made. For a short time the little party halted to take breath and to look over the new country. This rest, however, could not last long.
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