The banks were still brown, but they were patched with great beds of rose-pink primula, blue gentian, and yellow dog pansies. And on a perfect carpet of these sat three dark figures! Never in his life was Roy so overjoyed.
What more can I possibly want, than a spacious, comfortable house? Do I want buhl escritoires? Do I want or molu things? Do I know anything about pictures and statues? In the name of heaven do I want rose-pink bed-curtains to give my grizzly old phiz a delicate "uroral hue," as Cream Cheese says of Mrs. P.'s complexion?
The sky that has been all of one hue during the live-long day wherever you looked, nothing but pale, pale azure is now like the palette of some God-painter splashed and freaked with all manner of great and noble colors a most regal blaze of gold wide plains of crimson, as if all heaven were flashing at some high thought little feathery cloud-islands of tenderest rose-pink.
Not all of them were green, however, for the branches and leaves were of a variety of gorgeous colors. Some were purple, shading down to a light lavender; and there were reds all the way from a delicate rose-pink to vivid shades of scarlet. Orange, yellow and blue shades were there, too, mingling with the sea-greens in a most charming manner.
The change from the sombre shores of lochs Na Keal, and Iua, and Scridain to this world of sunlit foliage the golden yellow of the laburnum, the cream-white of the chestnuts, the rose-pink of the red hawthorn, and everywhere the keen, translucent green of the young lime-trees was enough to fill the heart with joy and gladness, though he had been no diligent student of landscape and color.
So he sent little Eve Edgarton a great, gorgeous box of candy instead, wonderful candy, pounds and pounds of it, fine, fluted chocolates, and rose-pink bonbons, and fat, sugared violets, and all sorts of tin-foiled mysteries of fruit and spice.
And the captive called to the woman, "Maria, we are lost. And I gave my great castle with rose-pink towers that stood just here as ransom to this señor for my life. But now, alas, I see that that magician who dwelt in the house where you are now has taken it whither we know not." "Yes, Pedro," said the woman, "he took it yesterday." And she turned blue eyes upon Rodriguez.
The voice of Kenset rang like a clarion. "Stop!" he cried, "don't shoot!" And he swung off his horse to leap for that gun. But another was before him. With a scream of anguish that rang heaven-high, Ellen shot forward and snatched it from the spot where it had fallen. Tall, white as a ghost in the rose-pink light that was tinged with purple, she stood, swaying on her feet, and faced them.
But, for the moment, everything was plain: the sky, full of light, and filmy grey cloud, the fells with their mingling of wood and purple crag, the shallow reach of the river beyond the garden, with a little family of wild duck floating upon it, and just below her a vivid splash of colour, a mass of rhododendron in bloom, setting its rose-pink challenge against the cool greys and greens of the fell.
In his 'Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell' in half a dozen pages of savage and almost diabolical sarcasm directed against the growing humanity of the age, the "rose-pink sentimentalisms," and squeamishness which shudders at the sight of blood and infliction of pain he prepares the way for a justification of the massacre of Drogheda.