The Quest of the Golden Girl: A Romance

as on the way. By the time I had washed off the day's dust it was ready, and a merry meal it proved. Rosalind had none of Alastor's objections to the wine-list, so we dr

of self-consciousness which occasionally surprise one, when, midway in some slightly unconventiona

Rosalind about the lovely country which lay dreamy in the afterglow outside our window. Oh, yes

ered, "it is almost as b

ing to that effect,-perhaps "You dear woman!" At all events, the veil of self-consciousness was rent in twa

d been missing it all these days of rustication, an

repeated tenderly,

beautiful in the whole worl

ate human music, the hansoms, the white

m or you'll make me

uppers after

cruel;" and I saw that her eyes

ese lonely hills and meadows far more. The natural man revels in solitude, and wants no wittier company than birds and flowers. Wordsworth made a cons

tural. Why, they are the most unnatural of men. The natural person

own; and there is quite a band of poets nowadays who share his distaste for mountains, and take London for their muse. If you'll promis

hat Rosalind had the verses I refer

, London, o

that opens

of the mi

gins when da

-flies the

eyes to catc

ion that must have been very gratify

lines as Rosalind had recalled, but by the time we had reached our coffee, I plucked up courage to mention it. I had, however, the less diffidence in that it would have a technical interest for her, being indeed no other than a song of cycling a deux which had been sug

er preface and p

is dangerou

ode on

ny miles an

rey he

dangerous-do

tter wa

out-more da

ed-"and

aid?" she tu

rave and

smile that t

e comp

said, deep

ssly g

'd ride in

all bl

et saw hil

afraid to

saw a fo

red to

a hill or

ou bes

ear star, th

u to gu

the hill-a

swirl, b

ood round-a

rful c

illed! Sure

, how d

illed-and se

e, but

as dangero

hat we mus

strong,-that

ed to b

o'd fain kno

and f

hills, with

y beh

she said, "the song is as dangerous as the hi

two," I

more important

d; "however, I h

, as if half to herself, "But that hill is dangerous, you know; an

e last two or three words, and

I realised what was happening, there she was with her beautiful

g such a fool," she

unexpected and mysterious about Rosalind's sudden outburst that it was impossible not to be sympathetic. I endeavoured to s

than I had at first supposed. She was a woman of the world, in that she lived in it, and loved its gaieties, b

the funny little story which she presently