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Rosemary Roselle lightly left the boat, and Elim followed. "If we explored," he proposed, "perhaps we could get you a cup of coffee." She elected, however, to stay by the river, and Elim went inward alone. Beyond the willows was an empty marshland. The old man had disappeared, with no trace of his objective kin.
Rosemary, facing the others over the back of her chair, nodded. Ann had her arms about her knees. They were all idle. "She got Dad to give me my horse," the boy went on, "and she'll get him to let us go off to the Greers' next month you'll see! I can't think how she does it." "I can remember the first day she came here," said Rosemary. She rested her chin in her hands; her eyes were dreamy.
"No, please don't," begged Rosemary. "If we're going to do anything we'll have to do it very soon. This can't last much longer!" Floyd did not stop to ask his sister just what she meant. In fact he did not dare question her as to what it was that could not last "much longer." He had a desperate fear that it was Rosemary's own spirit that was on the point of breaking.
It was the narrow-gage mountain connection of the Utah line, and Winton and Adams were on the rear platform of the last car. So it chanced that the four of them were presently waving their adieus across the wind-blown interspace. In the midst of it, or rather at the moment when the Rosemary, gathering speed as the lighter of the two trains, forged ahead, the Rajah came out to light his cigar.
If the sight of the book he had loaned Rosemary awoke any emotion, or even a memory, he did not show it. "Sit down," he suggested, imperturbably, "and let me see if I can't find a sonnet that fits you. Yes, surely here it is. Listen." She rested her head upon her hand and turned her face away from him.
"Mary, Rosemary," I exclaimed, as an unsatisfied little thought kept recurring to me, refusing to be set aside even in the midst of our great happiness, "there is a little maid 'in the North Countree' in whom I am deeply interested. The last I heard of her, she had been jilted by her lover. Didn't he ever come back to her?" Rosemary laughed.
Doctor Hugh declared he did not know what he should do without her. When Sarah left her work undone, it was Rosemary who finished it for her, Rosemary who listened sympathetically to Aunt Trudy's complaints about the weather, Rosemary who coaxed Shirley into clean frocks and amiability each afternoon and tried to soothe Winnie when Sarah's side-yard menagerie insisted on invading the house.
He had once laid aside his working-dress, and walked up, in his smartest clothes, to the Rosemary Branch to have an afternoon's pleasure. A person accosted him, and asked him if he would have a game. So they agreed to play for half a crown a game and a bottle of cider. The first game began it was seven, eight, ten, thirteen, fourteen, all. Cavanagh won it. The next was the same.
In his ark, seated at a rough table, he wrote to those he hoped to gain or feared to lose. He did not neglect the Blennerhassetts, nor Arlington, nor the confiding young law-students of Pittsburg. A lengthy letter was penned to the Hon. John Smith, and, at the same sitting, a model billet-doux to Mrs. Rosemary.
"Come to supper," called Rosemary, abruptly. She was unable to bear more. The meal was unexpectedly enlivened by Grandmother's discovery of a well-soaked milk ticket in the pitcher. From the weekly issue of The Household Guardian, which had reached her that day, she had absorbed a vast amount of knowledge pertaining to the manners and customs of germs, and began to fear for her life.
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