CHAPTER IX
MR. KENDRICK ENTERTAINS
On their way downstairs, Matthew Kendrick and his grandson, escorted byLouis Gray, encountered a small company of people apparently justarrived from a train. Louis stopped for a moment to greet them, turnedthem over to his brother Stephen, whom he signalled from a stair-landingabove, and went on down to the entrance-hall with the Kendricks.
"Too bad they're late for the party," he observed. "They had writtenthey couldn't come, I believe. Mother will have to do a bit of figuringto dispose of them. But the more the merrier under this roof, everytime."
"It's rather late to be putting people up for the night," Richardobserved. "Your mother will be sending some of them to a hotel, Iimagine. Couldn't we"--he glanced at his grandfather--"have the pleasureof taking them in our car? or of sending it back for them, if there aretoo many?"
"Thank you, but I've no doubt mother can arrange--" Louis Gray began,when old Matthew Kendrick interrupted him:
"We can do better than that, Dick," said he. He turned to Louis. "Wewill wait," said he, "while you present my compliments to your motherand say that it will give me great satisfaction if she will allow me toentertain an overflow party of her guests."
Hardly able to believe his ears, Richard stared at his grandfather. Whathad come over him, who had lived in such seclusion for so many years,that he should be offering hospitality at midnight to total strangers?He smiled to himself. But the next moment a thought struck him.
"Grandfather," he said hurriedly, "why not specially invite thatdelightful couple--the one they call 'Uncle Rufus' and his wife?"
"An excellent idea," Mr. Kendrick agreed, "though they might not bewilling to make the change at so late an hour."
"People who were dancing with spirit ten minutes ago will be ready totravel right now," prophesied Richard. He took flying leaps up thestairs in pursuit of Louis. Catching him on the next floor, he made hisrequest known. Louis received it without sign of surprise, but inwardly,as he hurried away, he was speculating upon what agencies could be atwork with the young man, that he should be so eager to do this deed ofextraordinary friendliness.
Mrs. Gray hesitated over Matthew Kendrick's invitation, although herhospitable home was already crowded to the roof-tree. But, taking JudgeCalvin Gray into her counsels, she was so strongly advised by him toaccept the offer that she somewhat reluctantly consented to do so.
"It's great, Eleanor, simply great!" he urged. "It will do my friendMatthew mere good than anything that has happened to him in atwelvemonth. As for young Richard--from what I've seen to-night you'venothing to fear from his part in the affair. Let them have Rufus andRuth--they'll enjoy it hugely. And give them as many more as willrelieve the congestion. Matthew could take care of a regiment in thatstone barracks of his."
"Sending Rufus and Ruth would give me quite space enough," she declared."Rufus has the largest room in the house, and I could put this lastparty there. It is really very kind of Mr. Kendrick, and I shall be gladto solve my problem in that way, since you think it best."
Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray, having the question put to them, acceded to itwith readiness. Both had been warmly drawn toward Richard, and thoughhis grandfather had seemed to them a figure of somewhat unnecessarilydignified reserve, the mere fact of his extending the invitation at allwas to them sufficient proof of his cordiality.
"It's nothing at all to pack up," Mrs. Rufus asserted. "I'll just takewhat I need for the night, and we'll be coming over for the tree in themorning, so I can get my other things then. I shall call it a real treatto be inside the home of such a wealthy man. How lonely he must be,living in such a great house, with only his grandson!"
So Aunt Ruth descended the stairs, wearing her little gray silk bonnetand a heavy cape of gray cloth, her hand on her husband's arm, herbright eyes shining with anticipation. Aunt Ruth dearly loved a bit ofexcitement and seldom found much in her quiet life upon the farm. AsMatthew Kendrick looked up and saw her coming slowly down, her husbandcarefully adjusting himself to the dip and swing of her step as she putalways the same foot foremost, he found himself distinctly glad of hisgrandson's suggestion, since it gave him so charming a guest toentertain as Mrs. Rufus Gray.
In the interval Richard had retired to a telephone, and had made thewires between his present position and the stone pile warm with hisorders. In consequence a certain gray-haired housekeeper, latelyreturned from some family festivities of her own and about to retire,found herself galvanized into activity by the sound of a well-known andslightly imperious voice issuing upsetting instructions to have the bestsuite of rooms in the house made ready within half an hour foroccupancy, and the house itself lighted for the reception of the guests.Other commands to butler and Mr. Richard's own manservant followed inquick succession, and when the young man turned away from the telephonehe was again smiling to himself at thought of the consternation he wascausing in a household accustomed to be run upon such lines ofconservatism and well defined routine that any deviation therefrom waslikely to prove most unacceptable. He himself was at home there such asmall portion of his time, and during the periods he spent there was socareful never to bring within its walls any festival-making of his own,he knew just how astonishing to the middle-aged housekeeper, thesolemn-faced old butler, and the rest of them, would be these midnightorders. He was enjoying the giving of such orders all the more for that!
Old Matthew Kendrick assisted Mrs. Rufus Gray into his luxuriouslyfitted, electric-lighted town-car as if she had been a royal personage,wrapping about her soft, thick rugs until she was almost lost to view.
"Why, I couldn't be cold in this shut-in place," she protested. "Not abreath could touch any one in here, I should say."
"I should call it pretty snug," Rufus Gray agreed with his wife, lookingabout him at the comfortable appointments of the car. "But there's justone thing a carriage like this wouldn't be good for, and that's taking aparty of young folks on a sleigh ride, on a snapping winter's night!"His bright brown eyes regarded those of Matthew Kendrick with somecuriosity. "I reckon you never took that sort of a ride, when you were aboy?" he queried.
"Yes, yes, I have--many a time," Mr. Kendrick insisted. "And great timeswe had. Boys and girls needed no electricity to keep them comfortable onthe coldest of nights. It's my grandson Richard who feels this sort ofthing a necessity. Until he came home a carriage and pair had been allthe equipage I needed."
"Grandfather is getting where a little extra warmth on a blusteringwinter's day is essential to his comfort," Richard declared, feeling acurious necessity, somehow, to justify the use of the expensive andcommodious equipage in the eyes of the country gentleman who seemed toregard it so lightly.
"It's very nice," Mrs. Gray said quickly. "I should hardly know I wasoutdoors at all. And how smoothly it runs along over the streets. Theyoung man out there in front must be a very good driver, I should think.He doesn't seem to mind the car-tracks at all."
"No, Rogers doesn't bother much about car-tracks," Richard agreedgravely. "His idea is to get home and to bed."
"It is pretty late--and I'm afraid waiting for us has made you a gooddeal later than you would have been," said Mrs. Gray regretfully.
"Not a bit--no, no."
"We'll go right to our room as soon as we get there," said she, "and youmustn't trouble to do a thing extra for us."
"It's going to be a great pleasure to have you under our roof," theyoung man assured her, smiling.
Arrived at the great stone mansion which was the well-known residence ofMatthew Kendrick, as it had been of his family for several generations,Richard stared up at it with a sense of strangeness. Except for thehalls and dining-room, his grandfather's quarters and his own, he couldnot remember seeing it lighted as other homes were lighted, with rows ofgleaming windows here and there, denoting occupancy by many people. Now,one whole wing, where lay the special suite of guest-rooms used at longintervals for particularly distinguished persons, was brilliantlyshining out upon the December nig
ht.
The car drew up beneath a massive covered entrance-porch, and a greatdoor swung back. A heavy-eyed, elderly butler admitted the party, whichwere ushered into an impressive but gloomy and inhospitable lookingreception-room. Matthew Kendrick glanced somewhat uncertainly at hisnephew, who promptly took things in charge.
"I thought perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Gray would have some sandwichesand--er--something more--with us, before they go to their rooms,"Richard suggested, nodding at Parks, the heavy-eyed.
"Yes, yes--" agreed Mr. Kendrick, but Mrs. Rufus broke in upon him.
"Oh, no, Mr. Kendrick!" she cried softly, much distressed. "Please don'tthink of such a thing--at this hour. And we've just had refreshments atEleanor's. Don't let us keep you up a minute. I'm sure you must be tiredafter this long evening."
"Not at all, Madam. Nor do you yourself look so," responded MatthewKendrick, in his somewhat stately manner. "But you may be feeling likesleep, none the less. If you prefer you shall go to your rest at once."He turned to his grandson again. "Dick--"
"I'll take them up," said that young man, eagerly. He offered his arm toAunt Ruth.
Uncle Rufus looked about him for the hand-bag which his wife had sohurriedly packed. "We had a little grip--" said he, uncertainly.
"We'll find it upstairs, I think," Richard assured him, and led the waywith Aunt Ruth. "I'm sorry we have no lift," he said to her, "but thestairs are rather easy, and we'll take them slowly."
Aunt Ruth puzzled a little over this speech, but made nothing of it andwisely let it go. The stairs were easy, extremely easy, and so heavilypadded that she seemed to herself merely to be walking up a slight,velvet-floored incline. The whole house, it may be explained, was fittedand furnished after the style of that period in the latter half of thelast century, when heavily carpeted floors, heavily shrouded windows,heavily decorated walls, and heavily upholstered chairs were consideredthe essentials of luxury and comfort. Old Matthew Kendrick had nevercared to make any changes, and his grandson had had too little interestin the place to recommend them. The younger man's own private rooms hehad altered sufficiently to express his personal tastes, but the rest ofthe house was to him outside the range of his concern. The whole place,including his own quarters, was to him merely a sort of temporaryhabitation. He had no plans in relation to it, no sense ofresponsibility in regard to it. When he had ordered the finest suite ofrooms in the house to be put in readiness for the guests, it wasprecisely as he would have requested the management of a great hotel toplace at his disposal the best they had to offer. To tell the truth, hehad no recollection at all of how the rooms looked or what theirdimensions were.
Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray, entering the first room of the series, a largeand elaborately furnished apartment with the effect of a drawing-room,much gilt and brocade and many mirrors in evidence, looked at Richard insome surprise, as he seated them. He himself went to the door of asecond room, glanced in, nodded, and returned to his guests.
"I hope you will find everything you want in there," he said. "If youdon't, please ring. You will see your dressing-room on the left, Mr.Gray. I will send you my man in the morning to see if he can do anythingfor you."
"I shan't need any man, thank you," protested Mr. Gray.
When, after lingering a minute or two, their young host had bade themgood-night and left them, the elderly pair looked at each other. UncleRufus's eyes were twinkling, but in his wife's showed a touch of softindignation.
"It seems like making a joke of us," said she, "to put us in such aplace as this, when he can guess what we're used to."
"He doesn't mean it as a joke," her husband protested good-humouredly."He wants to give us the best he's got. I don't mind a mite. To be sure,I could get along with one looking-glass to shave myself in, but it'skind of interesting to know how many some folks think necessary whenthey aren't limited. Let's go look in our sleeping-room. Maybe that's alittle less princely."
Aunt Ruth limped slowly across the Persian carpet, and stood still inthe doorway of the room Richard had designated as hers. Uncle Rufusstared in over her small shoulder.
"Well, well," he chuckled. "I reckon Napoleon Bonaparte wouldn't havethought this any too fine for him, but it sort of dazzles me. I'm gladsomebody's got that bed ready to sleep in. I shouldn't have been sure'twas meant for that, if they hadn't. There seems to be another room onbehind this one--what's that?"
He marched across and looked in. "Now, if I was rich, I wouldn't mindhaving one of these opening right out of my room. What there isn't inhere for keeping yourself clean can't be thought of."
"Rufus," said his wife solemnly, following him into the white-tiledbathroom, "I want you should look at these bath-towels. I never in mylife set eyes on anything like them. They must have cost--I don't knowwhat they cost--I didn't know there were such bath-towels made!"
"I don't want to wrap myself in a blanket," asserted her husband. "Iwant to know I've got a towel in my hand, that I can whisk round me andslap myself with. Look here, let's get to bed. We could sit up all nightexamining round into our accommodations. For my part, Eleanor's style ofliving suits me a good deal better than this kind of elegance. Her houseis fine and comfortable, but no foolishness. There's one thing I dolike, though. This carpet feels mighty good to your bare feet, I'll makesure!"
He presently made sure, walking back and forth barefooted across thesoft floor, chuckling like a boy, and making his toes sink into theheavy pile of the great rug. He surveyed his small wife, in herdressing-gown, sitting before the wide mirror of an elaboratedressing-table, putting her white locks into crimping pins.
"Ruth," said he, with sudden solemnity, "I forgot to undress in mydressing-room. Had I better put my clothes on and go take 'em off againin there?"
He pointed across to an adjoining room, brilliant with lights andequipped with all manner of furnishings adapted to masculine uses.
His wife turned about, laughing like a girl. "Maybe in there," shesuggested, "you could find a chair small enough to hang your coat acrossthe back of. I'm afraid it'll get all wrinkled, folded like that."
Uncle Rufus explored. After a minute he came back. "There's a queer sortof bureau-thing in there all filled with coat-and-pants hangers," heannounced. "I'm going to put my things in it. It'll keep 'em fromgetting wrinkled, as you say."
When he returned: "There's another bed in there," he said. "I don't knowwhat it's for. It's got the covers all turned back, too, just like thisone. Maybe we've made a mistake. Maybe there's somebody that has thatroom, and he hasn't come in yet. Do you suppose I'd better shut the doorbetween?"
"Maybe you had," agreed his wife anxiously. "It would be dreadful if heshould come in after a while. Still--young Mr. Kendrick called it yourdressing-room."
"And my clothes are in there," added Uncle Rufus. "It's all right.Probably the girl made a mistake when she fixed that bed--thought therewas a child with us, maybe."
"You might just shut the door," Aunt Ruth suggested. "Then if anybodydid come in--"
Uncle Rufus shook his head. "It's meant for us," he asserted withconviction as he climbed into bed. "He said 'dressing-room' and pointed.The girl's made a mistake, that's all. It's a good place for my clothes,and I'm going to leave 'em there. Will you put out the lights?"
Aunt Ruth looked around the wall. "I can never get used to electriclights at Eleanor's," said she. "And I don't see the place here, atall."
She searched for the switches some time in vain, but at lengthdiscovered them and succeeded in extinguishing the lights of the roomthe pair were in. But the lights of the adjoining rooms still burnedwith brilliancy.
"Oh, dear!" she sighed softly. Then she appealed to her husband.
Uncle Rufus, who had nearly fallen asleep while his wife had beensearching, spoke without opening his eyes. "Shut all the doors and leave'em going," he advised,
"Oh, no, I can't do that! Think of the cost, running all night so."
"I reckon they can afford it," he commented drowsily.
But Aunt R
uth continued to hunt, first in the large outer room whichlooked like a drawing-room, and possessed an elaborate centralelectrolier whose control, even after she discovered the switch, causedthe little lady considerable perplexity. When she had at lengthsucceeded in extinguishing the illumination she returned, guided by thelights in the other rooms. The bathroom keys were soon found, and thenshe applied herself to discovering those in the dressing-room. Theseeluded her for some minutes, but at length, all lights being turned off,Aunt Ruth found herself in total darkness. She groped about in it forsome time without success, for the heavy curtains had been closelydrawn, and not a ray of light penetrated the spacious rooms from anyquarter. After having followed the wall for what seemed an interminabledistance without reaching a recognizable position, she was forced tocall to her husband. He was asleep, and responded only after being manytimes addressed. Then he sat up in bed.
"Hey? What? What's the matter?" he inquired anxiously, peering into thedarkness.
"Nothing, dear--only I couldn't find the bed after I turned the lightsout. Keep on talking, and I'll work my way to you," answered his wife'svoice from some distance.
Guided by his voice--he found plenty to say on the subject of puttingpeople to bed in the midst of large, unfamiliar spaces--she groped herway to his side. He put out a gentle hand to welcome her, and as shetook her place the two fell to laughing softly over the whole situation.
"Why," said Uncle Rufus, "for all I've slept for forty years in the sameroom--and a pretty sizable room I've always thought it--I've never gotso I could plough a straight furrow through it in the dark. I reckon alifetime would be too short to get to know my way round thisplantation."
He could with difficulty be restrained from telling Richard about theincident next morning, when that young man came to their rooms to escortthem down to breakfast.
"I'm glad to have somebody pilot me," Uncle Rufus declared, his eyestwinkling as he followed after his wife, who leaned on Richard's arm. "Aman must have a pretty good sense of direction to keep his bearings in ahouse as big as this."
Richard laughed. "It's rather a straight road to the dining-room. Ithink I must have worn a path there since I came. Here we are--andhere's grandfather down before us. He's the first one in the house to beup, always."
Matthew Kendrick advanced to meet his guests, shaking hands with greatcordiality.
"It seems very wonderful, Madam Gray," said he, "to have a lady in thehouse on Christmas morning. Will you do me the honour to take thisseat?" He put her in a chair before a massive silver urn, under whichburned a spirit lamp. "And will you pour our coffee? It's many a yearsince we've had coffee served from the table, poured by a woman's hand."
"Why, I should be greatly pleased to pour the coffee," cried Aunt Ruthhappily. Her bright glance was fastened upon a mass of scarlet flowersin the centre of the table, for which Richard had sent between dark anddaylight. He smiled across the table at her.
"Are they real?" she breathed.
"Absolutely! Splendid colour, aren't they? I can't remember the name,but they look like Christmas."
Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Rufus Gray had ever in their lives eaten such abreakfast as was now served to them. Such extraordinary fruits, suchperfectly cooked game, such delicious food of various sorts--they couldonly taste and wonder. Richard, with a young man's healthy appetite,kept them company, but his grandfather made a frugal meal of toast,coffee, and a single egg, quite as if he were more accustomed to suchsimple fare than to any other.
The breakfast over, Mr. Kendrick took them to his own private rooms, toshow them a painting of which he had been telling them. Richardaccompanied them, having constituted himself chief assistant to Mrs.Gray, to whom he had taken a boyish liking which was steadily growing.Establishing her in a comfortable armchair, he sat down beside her.
"Now, Mr. Richard," said she, presently, while Mr. Matthew Kendrick andher husband were discussing an interesting question over their cigars inan adjoining room--Mr. Kendrick's adherence to the code of an earlierday making it impossible for him to think of smoking in the presence ofa lady--"I wonder if there isn't something you would let me do for you.You and your grandfather living alone, so, you must have things thatneed a woman's hand. While I sit here I'd enjoy mending some socks orgloves for you."
Richard looked at her. The sincerity of her offer was so evident that hecould not turn it aside with an evasion or a refusal. But he had not anarticle in the world that needed mending. When things of his reachedthat stage they were invariably turned over to his man, Bliss. Heconsidered.
"That's certainly awfully kind of you, Mrs. Gray," said he. "But--haveyou--"
She put her hand into a capacious pocket and produced therefrom a tiny"housewife," stocked with thimble, needles, and all necessaryimplements.
"I never go without it," said she. "There's always somebody to be mendedup when you least expect it. My niece Roberta tripped on one of herflounces last night, dancing--and not being used to dancing in suchfull, old-fashioned skirts. Rosy was starting to pin it up, but Iwhipped out my kit--and how they laughed, to see a pocket in a bestdress!" She laughed herself, at the recollection. "But I had Robby sewedup in less time than it takes to tell it--much better than pinning!"
"How beautifully she danced those old-fashioned dances," Richardobserved eagerly. "It was a great pleasure to see her."
"Yes, it's generally a pleasure to see Robby do things," Roberta's auntagreed. "She goes into them with so much vim. When she comes out tovisit us on the farm it's the same way. She must have a hand in thechurning, or the sweeping, or something that'll keep her busy. Aren'tyou going to get me the things, Mr. Richard?"
The young man hastened away. Arrived before certain drawers andreceptacles, he turned over piles of hosiery with a thoughtful air.Presently selecting a pair of black silk socks of particularly finetexture, he deliberately forced his thumb through either heel, takingcare to make the edges rough as possible. Laughing to himself, he thenselected a pair of gray street gloves, eyed them speculatively for amoment, then, taking out a penknife, cut the stitches in several places,making one particularly long rent down the side of the left thumb. Heregarded these damages doubtfully, wondering if they looked entirelynatural and accidental; then, shaking his head, he gathered up the socksand gloves and returned with them to Aunt Ruth.
She looked them over. "For pity's sake," said she, "you wear out yourthings in queer ways! How did you ever manage to get holes in your heelsright on the bottom, like that? All the folks I ever knew wear out theirheels on the back or side."
Richard examined a sock. "That is rather odd," he admitted. "I must havedone it dancing."
"I shall have to split my silk to darn these places," commented AuntRuth. "These must be summer socks, so thin as this." She glanced at thetrimly shod foot of her companion and shook her head. "You young folks!In my day we never thought silk cobwebs' warm enough for winter."
"Tell me about your day, won't you, please?" the young man urged. "Thosemust have been great days, to have produced such results."
The little lady found it impossible to resist such interest, and waspresently talking away, as she mended, while her listener watched herflying fingers and enjoyed every word of her entertaining discourse. Heartfully led her from the past to the present, brought out a tale or twoof Roberta's visits at the farm, and learned with outward gravity butinward exultation that that young person had actually gone to thelengths of begging to be allowed to learn to milk a cow, but had failedto achieve success.
"I can't imagine Miss Roberta's failing in anything she chose toattempt," was his joyous comment.
"She certainly failed in that." Aunt Ruth seemed rather pleased herselfat the thought. "But then she didn't really go into it seriously--it wasbecause Louis put her up to it--told her she couldn't do it. She onlyreally tried it once--and then spent the rest of the morning washing herhair. Such a task--it's so heavy and curly--" Aunt Ruth suddenly stoppedtalking about Roberta, as if it had occurred to her that this young
manlooked altogether too interested in such trifles as the dressing ofcertain thick, dark locks.
Presently, the mending over, the Grays were taken, according to promise,back to the Christmas celebrations in the other house, and Richard,returning to his grandfather, proposed, with some unwonted diffidence ofmanner, that the two attend service together at St. Luke's.
The old man looked up at his grandson, astonishment in his face.
"Church, Dick--with you?" he repeated. "Why, I--" He hesitated. "Did thelittle lady we entertained last night put that into your head?"
"She put several things into my head," Richard admitted, "but not that.Will you go, sir? It's fully time now, I believe."
Matthew Kendrick's keen eyes continued to search his grandson's face, toRichard's inner confusion. Outwardly, the younger man maintained anattitude of dignified questioning.
"I am willing to go," said Mr. Kendrick, after a moment.
At St. Luke's, that morning, from her place in the family pew, RuthGray, remembering a certain promise, looked about her as searchingly aswas possible. Nowhere within her line of vision could she discern thefigure of Richard Kendrick, but she was none the less confident thatsomewhere within the stately walls of the old church he was taking partin the impressive Christmas service. When it ended and she turned tomake her way up the aisle, leading a bevy of young cousins, her eyes,beneath a sheltering hat-brim, darted here and there until, unexpectedlynear-by, they encountered the half-amused but wholly respectfulrecognition of those they sought. As Ruth made her slow progress towardthe door she was aware that the Kendricks, elder and younger, were closebehind her, and just before the open air was reached she was able toexchange with Richard a low-spoken question and answer.
"Wasn't it beautiful? Aren't you glad you came?"
"It _was_ beautiful, Miss Ruth--and I'm more than glad I came."
* * * * *
Several hours earlier, on that same Christmas morning, Ruth had rushedinto Roberta's room, crying out happily:
"Flowers--flowers--flowers! For you and Rosy and mother and me! Theyjust came. Mr. Richard Loring Kendrick's card is in ours; of course it'sin yours. Here are yours; do open the box and let me see! Mother's areorchids, perfectly wonderful ones. Rosy's are mignonette, greatclusters, a whole armful--I didn't know florists grew suchrichness--they smell like the summer kind. She's so pleased. Mine areviolets and lilies-of-the-valley. I'm perfectly crazy over them.Yours--"
Roberta had the cover off. Roses! Somehow she had known they would beroses--after last night. But such roses!
Ruth cried out in ecstasy, bending to bury her face in the gloriousmass. "They're exactly the colour of the old brocade frock, Robby," sheexulted. She picked up the card in its envelope. "May I look at it?" sheasked, with her fingers already in the flap. "Ours all have someChristmas wish on, and Rosy's adds something about Gordon and Dorothy."
"You might just let me see first," said Roberta carelessly, stretchingout her hand for the card. Ruth handed it over. Roberta turned her head."Who's calling?" she murmured, and ran to the door, card in hand.
"I didn't hear any one," Ruth called after her.
But Roberta disappeared. Around the turn of the hall she scanned hercard.
"_Thorns to the thorny_," she read, and stood staring at the unexpectedwords written in a firm, masculine hand. That was all. Did it sting?Yet, curiously enough, Roberta rather liked that odd message.
When she came back, Ruth, in the excitement of examining many otherChristmas offerings, had rushed on, leaving the box of roses onRoberta's bed. The recipient took out a single rose and examined itsstem. Thorns! She had never seen sharper ones--and not one had beenremoved. But the rose itself was perfection.
The Twenty-Fourth of June: Midsummer's Day Page 9
