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Updated: June 15, 2025
The summer so dreary in prospect to Maurice bade fair to be endurable after all. Rosalind's gray eyes, now merry, now serious, but always seeking the good in things, her contagious belief in the Forest, had stirred his manliness, making him conscious of his fretfulness, and then ashamed. His mother, who had dreaded the long holiday, wondered at his content. Katherine wondered a little too.
I love the Asplins, and would do anything I could to give them pleasure. They were unspeakably good to Arthur and to me. I don't know what we should have done without them all the time we were alone." Rosalind's face sobered suddenly, and she gave a struggling sigh. "You are just the same as ever, I can see, Mawiquita," she said slowly, "not changed a bit.
The shadow of future suffering seemed already on Rosalind's beautiful face as she raised it to Arthur's, and cried tremblingly: "Arthur, I cannot! I love you dearly, but I cannot face it! Evewy one would be so surpwised so astonished! They would laugh at me behind my back, and mother would bweak her heart and and oh, I couldn't bear to give up so much!
Peggy stood transfixed; Mellicent screamed in terror; and Esther ran forward, handkerchief in hand, only to be waved aside with angry vehemence. Rosalind's face was convulsed with anger; she stamped her foot and spoke at the pitch of her voice, as if she had no control over her feelings. "Oh, oh, oh! You wicked girl! you hateful, detestable girl!
Jervis should understand, once for all, that she was not in the least like her mother or like Phyllis Desmond. That was enough for Mrs. Jervis. But it was not enough for Frances, who found her mind wandering off from Rosalind's mother and looking for the word of words that would express her own meaning to her own satisfaction.
Peggy would not have ventured to make such a suggestion had not Rosalind's own protestations opened the way, but as it was she felt no diffidence in making it, and the change from despair to rapture on her friend's expressive face went far to console her for her own disappointment. But if Mellicent's expression was significant, Rosalind's was even more so.
"I think I should choose this," and Celia pointed to a leaf from the scarlet oak. "Not only because it is beautiful in shape, but because the oak tree stands for courage. A 'heart of oak' has become a proverb, you know." Rosalind's eyes grew bright. "I didn't think of its having a meaning. I like that." "And in the fall we'll have scarlet badges instead of green ones," said Jack.
With impatient fingers she tore off Rosalind's wedding finery and attacked her make-up. Then she lingered over her dressing, hoping to avoid the rest of the company and any congratulatory friends who might happen to be browsing around. She wanted to be alone with her memories to have and to hold them a little longer before they should grow too dim and far away.
She must try to finish one batch at least, to show him on his return. Unless she was especially sent for, she would not go downstairs; but before ten minutes had passed, Mellicent was tapping at the door and whispering eager sentences through the keyhole. "Peggy, quick! They've come! Rosalind's here! You're to come down! Quick! Hurry up!" "All right, my dear, keep calm!
Rosalind was deeply interested in Prospero; and when the Poet and I had talked long and eagerly about him, she often threw into the current some comment or suggestion that gave us quite another and clearer view of his genius and work. But at heart Rosalind's chief interest was in Miranda and Ferdinand.
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