Part 19 (2/2)

”I don't know that the flower would care for that,” remarked G.o.dfrey, as they renewed their quest.

At length behind a jutting ma.s.s of rock, in a miniature valley, not more than a few yards wide that was backed by other rocks, this flower was found. G.o.dfrey and Juliette, pa.s.sing round either side of the black, projecting ma.s.s to the opening of the toy vale beyond, discovered it simultaneously. There it stood, one lovely, lily-like bloom growing alone, virginal, perfect. With a cry of delight they sprang at it, and plucked it from its root, both of them grasping the tall stem.

”I saw it first, and I will kiss it!” cried Juliette, ”in token of possession.”

”No,” said G.o.dfrey, ”I did, and I will. I want that flower for my collection.”

”So do I, for mine,” answered Juliette.

Then they both tried to set this seal of possession upon that lily bloom, with the strange result that their young lips met through its fragile substance and with so much energy that it was crushed and ruined.

”Oh!” said G.o.dfrey with a start, ”look what you have done to the flower.”

”I! I, wicked one! Well, for the matter of that, look what you have done to my lips. They feel quite bruised.”

Then first she laughed, and next looked as though she were going to cry.

”Don't be sad,” said G.o.dfrey remorsefully. ”No doubt we shall find another, now that we know where they are.”

”Perhaps,” she answered, ”but it is always the first that one remembers, and it is finished,” and she threw down the stalk and stamped on it.

Just then they heard a sound of laughter, and looking up, to their horror perceived that they were not alone. For there, seated upon stones at the end of the tiny valley, in composed and comfortable att.i.tudes, which suggested that they had not arrived that moment, were two gentlemen, who appeared to be highly amused.

G.o.dfrey knew them at once, although he had not seen them since the previous autumn. They were Brother Josiah Smith, the spiritualist, and Professor Petersen, the investigating Dane, whom he used to meet at the seances in the Villa Ogilvy.

”I guess, young Brother Knight,” said the former, his eyes sparkling with sarcastic merriment, ”that there is no paint on you. When you find a flower, you know how to turn it to the best possible use.”

”The substance of flowers is fragile, especially if of the lily tribe, and impedes nothing,” remarked the learned Dane in considered tones, though what he meant G.o.dfrey did not understand at the moment. On consideration he understood well enough.

”Our mutual friend, Madame Riennes, who is absent in Italy, will be greatly amused when she hears of this episode,” said Brother Smith.

”She is indeed a remarkable woman, for only this morning I received a letter in which she informed me that very soon I should meet you, young man, under peculiar circ.u.mstances, how peculiar she did not add. Well, I congratulate you and the young lady. I a.s.sure you, you made quite a pretty picture with nothing but that flower between you, though, I admit, it was rough on the flower. If I remember right you are fond of the cla.s.sics, as I am, and will recall to mind a Greek poet named Theocritus. I think, had he been wandering here in the Alps to-day, he would have liked to write one of his idylls about you two and that flower.”

”Because of the interruption give pardon, for it is owed an apology,”

said the solemn Professor, adding, ”I think it must have been the emanation of Madame Riennes herself which led us to this place, where we did not at all mean to come, for she is very anxious to know how you progress and what you are doing.”

”Yes, young friend,” broke in Brother Smith, not without a touch of malice, for like the rest he was resentful of G.o.dfrey's desertion of their ”circle,” ”and now we shall be able to tell her.”

”Say then,” said Juliette, ”who are these gentlemen, and of what do they talk?”

”They--are--friends of mine,” G.o.dfrey began to explain with awkward hesitation, but she cut him short with:

”I like not your friends. They make a mock of me, and I will never forgive you.”

”But Juliette, I----” he began, and got no further, for she turned and ran away. Anxious to explain, he ran after her, pursued by the loud hilarity of the intruding pair. In vain, for Juliette was singularly swift of foot, and he might as well have pursued Atalanta.

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