A Rose of Yesterday

in her chair, so that the summer light, softened and tinted

still graceful legs, leaning back in his chair, and slow

Dürer's Knight. It was the one known as 'The Knight, Death, and the Devi

t," said Sylvia, at last. "There must be stories a

lest the fitful breeze that came in through the blinds should blow it to

away, with a faint sigh. She sighed, too, but more audibly, as though she were not ashamed of it. Possibly she knew that he could not guess what t

squire and servant. He will reach the city on the hill in time, for there is still sand enough in the hour-glass.

ut he was bending over the etching, and she could only

in time," he a

ey lived in, of those on

Death, the Devil,

ourse,--the lady who is waiting to

d not. His glance took in her brown hair, her violet eyes, her delicately shaded cheek, and the fresh young mouth with its strange little half-weary

with a small squadron in the waters of the far East. He had been ordered home rather suddenly, and the Wimpoles were bringing the girl back by way of Europe. Sylvia's mother had been dead three years, and had left her a little fortune. Mrs. Strahan had been a ste

rt that he might see it and be hurt, for he had known pain in himself and through one he loved. He could not believe that Sylvia was forefated to sorrow, and the silent wearin

afterwards, with an old-fashioned attachment for arms that was dashed with chivalry, till at last he had hung up his sword, accepting peace as a profession. Indeed he had

tion of right, and have dealt and received real wounds. War either brutalizes or refines a man; it never leaves him unchanged. Colonel Wimpole had travelled from time to time, more for the sake of going to some one place which he wished to see, than of passing through many places for the sake of travelling. There is a great difference between the two methods. Wherever he went, he took with him his own character and his slightly formal courtesy

ge upon the nobility of his advanced manhood; one of whom a woman would expect great things in an extremity, but to whom she would no longer turn for the little service, the little fetching and carrying, which most women expect of men still in prime. But he did such things unasked, and for any woman, when it s

lly, and he would have been very much surprised could he have guessed how she thought of him, and what she was thinking as she sat looking from him to D

niffs at the skull in the way, but the Knight's charger turns up his lip and shows his teeth at the carrion thing and arches his strong neck, while the Knight looks straight before him, and cares not, and his steel-clad legs press t

he two, and saw one and the same heroism in the man and in the pictured rider. In her inmost heart she wished that she could have seen the colonel long ago, when he had fought, riding at death without

old house up in the town, on the left of the tallest tower. She was waiting somewhere under the high-gabled roof, with her spinning-

t his fore foot down, and

that she was waiting in the tall house with the many windows? Perhaps he was never to know, and fore

nlike her to wish that an old print should turn

the horse would go o

via, quietly; and as she spoke a third time of the sand

time," answered the

; and that will not matter to us, when

will matter very much

much more than a hundr

Colonel Wimpole, changing his posi

orehead to the faint breeze that came through the closed green blinds, and she looked at the etching. The colonel believed that she was thinking of

gently, after a time. "She was like a real sister to us.

y pale, and the old print shook in her hands. "Oh,

lt that she was very fond of him. He thought of the woman he loved, and

said. "You are very good to me, a

the girl's heart sent re

you could not be tiresome if you tried!

ning, and of the sudden flashing of new steel drawn s

," said he. "But age is a matter of fact. I w

via rose quickly and turned fro

hair. He thought again of the daughter that might have been born to him, and even of a daughter's daughter. It seemed to him that his own years might be a greater matter than Sylvia woul

via's voice came from the window, but she did not

He did not

is as though I did not car

er than ever, strengthening the tone just when it was break

and he took her fresh young hands. "What is it?

ly filled, and she just bent her hea

peated his question, and

py, too,

nd gladness took its place at his touch. But he looked, and remembered other hands, and

made together, and answers came in many faces of men that glided before him. One of them stopped him and held his thought, as a fleeting memory will. A young officer of her father's flagship, lean, brown, bright-eyed, with a strong mouth and a rare smile. Sylvia

h he had said much, glad and will

, as if all had been explai

life had failed strangely, he knew how happy she must be, having all he had not. But

lly know at last?"

or he had the sure conviction o

e glad? Eve

ove you with all

and then her sight grew faint, and

white fingers closed tightly upon his sleeve

k came to his face instantly, as

"What have you wai

d just now." Her face st

y? That I love

ilently, aga

Sylvia dear," he said, while a

stand. You know that the years mean nothing, after all, and that there is still

g sharply and painfully

had faced many dangers bravely, but the girl frightened him, clinging to his sleeve, and talking of her half-chil

tand it, though she had a prevision of evil, and the

e, and very gently pushing her back a little. "I was thinking of you

now, of her own

y hearing her own words, half stunned by her m

gravely. "Your father and I are just of the same

ds covered her face in an instant as she fled, and before the do

ed, as some men might have done, not at Sylvia, indeed, though at the absurdity of the situation. But

have been his conviction. Yet he was deeply and truly touched by her half-childish love, and its innocen

he sat in his chair by the table. The vision of hope was growing daily more dim,

onel knew that. She would see that he was going in under the gateway of old age, while she was on the threshold of youth's m

te where he reigns at all, cruel upon his people, and relentless; for, beyond his scanty principality, he is nothing, and his name is not known in t

soon seem an old man even in her eyes. And then there would not be much hope left. Sadly he wondered what Sylvia saw in him wh

left alone, but the door opened behind him, and he knew by the steady and pr

am surprised." Then sh

t him out of mischief, occasionally by force, often by authority, but never by persuasion. When in pinafores the colonel had been fond of sweets. Miss Wimpole considered that he owed his excellent health to her her

n her judgments. She had loved a man who had been killed in the civil war, and, being what she was, she had never so much as considered the possibility of marrying any one else. She was

l rose as

r?" he asked. "Why

to Sylvia, Richard?" enquir

olonel. He felt the difficulty of his position so keenly that, old as he was,

earching severity, "and she is crying as though her heart would break.

y," said the co

" retorted his sister. "I insist

ole, who felt obliged to say something,

d, and you know it. You must have

nswered the col

, all by herself? I should lik

not. When she is herself ag

his sister the truth, and was incapable of inventing a falsehood, he saw

at you." And she turned away rather stiffly. "I thought you h

s silence, which was all he wanted. When he was quite sure that she was in her