"I'm like that crimson rambler," said Jean, pointing to the straggling creeper covering an old potting-shed, "Do you remember when you hammered and hammered, and pruned it and flattened it against the wall? It was always trying to burst away from you, and when you would be master, it at last gave up trying to have its own life, and dwindled and pined in reckless despair. You were angry with it then, and said you would leave it alone, and the poor thing lifted up its head, and found that life was worth living after all. It shook out its branches and flourished and rejoiced. It left the hateful wall with its nails and wires, and stretched out to the old shed, and now, it's a miracle of beauty and strength. Even you allow that some things flourish best with no restraint."
Rawlings eyed the rambler with disdain.
"Poor misguided thing!" he said. "I allow I did spend a mint o' time tryin' to make it into a decent shape and size, but I was expectin' great things from it. Yes, Miss Jean, it makes a great show of growth, and its blossoms are many and gaudy, but where is the scent and sweetness that belongs to the rose tribe?"
"Don't you go for to describe yourself as a crimson rambler, there be many of 'em in the world. They lives and flourishes in their own way, and are never checked and hindered. They makes a show, but never makes the atmosphere sweet around 'em. I wouldn't give tuppence for a rose without scent; 'tis an utter failure of its tribe. The rambler be a common hardy creeper to be sure, and 'tis not so out of place on a potting-shed, but we do look for better things from you, Miss Jean; and believe me, growin' as you like, anywheres and everywheres, you're certain to degenerate into a scentless plant!"
Jean never got the better of Rawlings in argument, but woman-like, she would not be crushed.
"Oh, well, there are other things besides sweetness in life, there's strength and sturdy goodness. I don't think I like very sweet people. There was a girl at school all gush and sentiment, and every one was always 'a dear' and 'a darling' to her. I longed to shake her sometimes! If I'm not a 'sweet' character, Rawlings, I can try to be a strong and a good one."
Then she added wistfully—
"Do tell me you're sorry to lose me, Rawlings! Will none of you care, I wonder! Grandfather is thankful to see the last of me; and remember, I am never to come back here, never! I have had my choice. I could have stayed on here always, if I had liked. I would have grown into a little old mummy of a woman; my meals would have been the excitement of the day; and I would have nodded in my chair for the rest of the time. Would you like a mistress like that, Rawlings? Thank goodness, that will not be my fate! Oh, say you're glad for me, and sorry for yourselves, that's what I want you to say."
"I'll say with truth, Miss Jean, that we shall miss you sorely, but I doubt if I can be glad for you."
Jean gave an impatient laugh, then danced away singing at the top of her voice—