Rose of the World

ever more dreamlike, enwrapped in pale

lready the something of England that the sea must always bring her children, the surroundings of an English ship especially, was about t

me fantastic mirage effect, the great oriental port, with its glimmering minarets and cupolas, showed as if caught up into the sky itself. Let but this iron heart labour on a little while longer, let but this eager prow cut its way a

affinity with the East. Its mystery had fallen from them. Already this was England. Rosamo

rchief with which she had been frantically signalling long after there was any possibility of the ve

he fading vision with

ore to herself than to the girl beside her

d Aspasia,

st as they leaned against the railings an

as young as you when I last beheld its shores—thus—from the sea. It was in the dawn (it is fit it should now be dusk), and we stood together as I stand beside you to-day. And I saw it grow out of the sky, even with the dawn, a city of rose, of pearl, beyond words beautiful—unimaginable, it seemed to me, in promis

ll upon her aunt's face. In the pupils of Ros

ose, and the sudden grave yawning! I've never been home since," she said, with a sudden change of tone, bringing her glance back from the misty horizon, to fix it upon Aspasia with so piteous and haggard a look that the girl lost h

of her aunt's strange discourse. And, upon her usual impulsiveness springing

ped her lips than she could have b

cene. The light went out in her eyes, to be replaced by a distant contempt. The features that had quivered with passion be

ength, very gently. Then she suggested that as it was g

ed being had turned to her as woman to woman; impelled by God knows what sudden necessity of complaint, of another's sympathy, of another's understanding, the lonely soul had called upon hers. And she, Aspasia

*

quality of great lady and semi-invalid, the Lieutenant-Governor's wife was to be withdrawn from the familiar intercourse which life on a liner imposes on most travellers. It had been Sir Arthur's care to see

Bethune unceremoniously, as the first dusk closed

dered out of her wits; and Gibbons—that's our English fool of a maid—she's taken to groaning already. Th

itself an ethereal charm very different from its usual clear and positive outline. Hardly had this realisation of her personality come to him than, under the hands of the ship's servant she had so con

the softening of his hard face whic

tle dabs; and I don't want them to die an hour befor

alace had been short, but sufficient to

dry chuckle as he set to

e, almost jovially, when he returned;

basins," said Aspasia, and swept him b

, the cushions, a few books, a great cut-glass scent bottle—the very disorder even of a litter of rich trifles that had not yet found their place, removed the trivial impression of steamer upholstery. She received him without surprise, if without any mark of welcome; and Aspasia chattered, ordered, laughed, kept

y the slap of some sudden wave against the flank of the ship. A wind had arisen, and no

fingers were busy unrolling the bonds that braced them in artificial de

pink hands down among the languid bl

er, all stained, all fallen apart, all broken. Never draw away the secret supports, Baby. It i

rcely tangible way the words seemed aimed at him; but

er with new eyes. She struck him as very frail. Could it be true, or did he but ima

ed up and then smiled. Strange being! Was he, then

s one which haunted him all his lif

*

s that yet lapse quickly and moreover work a sure but subtle change. No traveller that lands after a long sea journey

upon his sympathy—soon began to absorb all the energies of his thoughts. To a man who had hitherto known no other emotion, outside a very ordinary type of home affection, than friendship for another man; whose life, with the exception of one brief period of glamorous hero-worship, had been devoted to duty in its sternest, most virile

rosy as the dawn, coming to meet him of a morning, brisk and free, across the deck, her young figure outlined against sparkling sea and translucent sky, was a memory all pleasant and all sweet, the pictur

has failed to make the smallest impression, is a situation certain to pique the most unassuming. In the end Bethune began to wish that Lady Gerardine had retained even her original attitude of resentment. Now and again, indeed,

er aunt upon the subject of her black g

e would think you

r horizon to Aspasia's countenance, and her lips mo

he myself, when I am tr

oked at her, and with difficulty restrained the taunt that

at her in harshness, he marked the admirable white throat, rising like a flower stem from the dense black

slike than her words, more unemotional than her manner. She asked for his instructions; she discussed, criticised, concurred. It was obvious that, when she chose, h

d send for him. And as he withdrew, he felt himself dismissed from her thoughts, except as a mere instrument in what now s

rofited by a situation which afforded her unmixed amusement. She was not in love as yet with the Major of Guides. Indeed, she had other and higher ambitions. Aspasia's dream-pictures of herself were ever of a wonderful artist of world-wide celebrity, surrounded by a sea of clapping hands

orange sunset and the rising of a thin sickle moon, Aspasia wrapped against the chilly salt airs in some of her aunt's sables, out

them, the anguish, the struggle, the joy. Then of the death of her mother, and the fal

eyelashes. "The Runkle thinks it's a disgrace for a lady to do anything in life. 'And, besides,' he says, 'she can't, and she'd better

he experience of his hard life behind him, and all the disillusion of his five-and-thirty years, felt so sudden a movement at once of pity and te

sand castle on the beach, or tin soldier strategy. "And may I come with a great big lau

e saw herself the centre of an applauding multitude; but, in the foremost rank, there was the lean, brown face, and it was moved to en

*

he dim grey sea and sky in twain, was their f

"isn't it just like England to g

e towards the weeping land, turned with one of her s

ng on nay face. I'm sick of hard blue skies and fierce sunshine.... And the trees at Saltwoods will be all bent o