A Rose in June

ircle of neighbors; and though she was still as sorry as ever, she said to herself, for poor Mrs. Wodehouse (which was the only reason she had ever given to herself for that serrement de c?ur), y

mental note of the fact, that she did not see Edward Wodehouse for some days thereafter. “How sorry I am to have missed them!” her mother said, on hearing that the young man and his mother had called in her absence; and Rose was sorry too, but honestly took the fact for an accident. During the ensuing days there was little doubt that an unusual amount of occupation poured upon her. She went with her father to town one morning to see the pictures in the exhibitions. Another day she was taken by the same delightful companion to the other side of the county to a garden par

y said, a new picture which he had just bought—a Perugino, or, it might be, an early Raphael. “He wants

aid Mrs. Damerel. “I don’t know what

er opinion prized was pleasant, even though she felt that it was a subject upon which she could pass no opinion. “I have never seen any

don care for her opinion?—and perplexed her thoughts much as she walked up the leafy road to the gate of Whitton Park, which was Mr. Incledon’s grand house. Her father expatiated upon the beauty of the place

aid; “how could it be? I thought we had been ev

care for children’s vi

to tumble about in, and trees to climb. This lovely bit of woodland would be lost on boys

cledon to shut up so pretty a place from his neighbors—from his friend

er directer mind cared for this way of influencing her daughter. She was an

ason for remaining unmarried, that obstacle must have been removed; for he was now anxious to marry, and had fully made up his mind to do so at as early a date as possible. I do not know whether it could be truly said that he was what foolish young people call “very much in{27} love” with Rose Damerel; but he had decided that she was the wife for him, and meant to spare neither pains nor patience in winning her. He had haunted the rectory for some time, with a readiness to accept all invitations which was entirely unlike his former habits; for up to the time when he had seen and made up his mind about Rose, Mr. Incledon had been almost a recluse, appearing little in the tranquil society of the Green, spending much of his time abroad, and when at home holding only a reserved and distant intercourse with his neighbors. He gave them a handsome heavy dinner two or three times a year, and accepted the solemn return which society requires; but no one at Dinglefield had seen more of his house than the reception-rooms, or of himself than those grave festivities exhibited. The change upon him now was marked enough to enlighten the most careless looker-on; and the Perugino, which they were invited to see, was in fact a pretence which the rector and his wife saw through very easily, to make them acquainted with his handsome house and all its advantages. He took them all over it, and showed the glory of it with mingled complacency and submission to

lder lines, with heavier massing of foliage, and one broad reach of the river giving a great centre of light and shadow, instead of the dreamy revelations here and there of the winding water as seen from the rectory. Rose gave an involuntary cry of delight when she was taken out to the green terrace before the house, and first saw the landscape from it, though she never would confess after

irl that her opinion could be thus gravely asked for by a man fully aware of its complete worthlessness as criticism. She thought he must have formed some mistaken idea of her kno

nterminable vista of rooms, one opening into the other, towards the shrine in which he had placed his

aph of the San Sisto, that papa g

nothing like that, have we? How I should like to show you the San Sis

e time. The pictures in the National Gallery do not give me at all the same feeling; and, of course, nev

the picture. It was doubly framed by the doorway of the little room in which it kept court. Before even she entered that sacred chamber, the young worshipper was struck dumb with adoration. The doorway was hung with silken curtains of the same gray-green as the wall, and there was not visible, either in this soft surrounding framework, or in the picture itself, any impertinent accessory to distract the attention. The face so tenderly abstract, so heavenly human

tly, in her ear, “more eloquent than I ever heard

ell was the little cottage at Ankermead, upon which just the other evening she had looked with Edward Wodehouse. All he said came back to her, and the evening scene in which he said it, and the soft, indescribable happiness and sweetness that had dropped upon her like the falling dew. Rose had not time to make any question with herself as to what it meant; but her heart jumped up in her bosom and began to beat, and a sudden, momentary perception of how it all was flashed over her. Such gleams of consciousness come and go when the soul is making its first experiences

always intended so; unless, indeed, she is perverse as my mother was, who disliked this side of

d motionless,

d motionless,

ppear,” said Mrs. Damerel; while poor little Rose suddenly fe

s head, “it is easier to gild t

ing eagerness to have her opinion about the Perugino! She kept close to her mother till they got safely out of the park, for Mr. Incledon attended them as far as the gates, and Rose was so much startled that she did not feel safe near him. It seemed to her that the plot must be brought to perfection at once, and that there was no escape except in keeping as far off as possible. She resolved to herself as she went along that she would never approach him if she could help it, or let him speak to her. Her sensations were something like those with which a startled hare might, I suppose, contemplate from beneath her couch of fern the

not much of a pedestrian, and hated dust, and abhorred all the irritations and weariness of excessive heat, came along somewhat slowly, skirting the houses to get every scr

aid Mr. Damerel, peevishly, though playfully. “Nolan, you salamander,

care. “The poor creature’s dying. You’ll go and say a word to her? I was goi

nce as you do,” said the rector still more peev

y world” said good Mr. Nolan; “but she has a fancy to see you. I have done

inquiring look. “She has always wanted to see you; but what good coul

to give a bit of comfort to a dying creature that longs to see you;” tho

voice took a slightly querulous tone, in spite of the readiness with which he replied. “You need not wait,” he said, turning to his wife and daughte

’s no story to tell; and all her duties done, and life closing as it ought. It’s but a whim; but they will all take it

er people’s feelings—far from it, I hope; but my own organization

creature’

to die, or a thing to which every other interest should yield and bow. But, never min

ladies who are somewhat out of temper with their friends. She was offended, and she meant to show it. She said “Good morning” to Mrs. Damerel, instead of “How do you do?” and spoke with melancholy grandeur of the weather, and the extreme heat, and how a thunderstorm must be on its way. They stood talking on these interesting topics, while Rose and Edward found themselves together. It see

aid hurriedly; “and these last days run through o

herself, and still more afraid lest her mother shoul

. You will not refuse to bid a poor sailor good-by, Mi

,” said Rose, raising her eyes t

him in any respect except youth, in which he had the better of his rival; but oh, how different he seemed to Rose! She could not look full at h

his breath; and just at this moment Mrs. Damerel p

itton to see a new picture, and Mr. Incledon has so many beautiful thing

from heaven to earth. He said nothing to her about that evening, but I suppose Mrs.

ations to young men, nor make appointm

ma

. It was merely an accident; but, my dear,

nt it) satirically. But poor Rose’s little effusion of (what she intended for) gal

apa—in short, we have heard something of Mr. Wodehouse which—we do not quit

e harm of him?” said Rose, open

omething which made your papa decide—in short, I don’t want to take too

lling full. She did not believe that her father had anything to do with it. It