"No," answered Corona simply, still wondering what he might mean, but keeping a steady eye on him. Why should she be afraid of this comic little man?
"So?… I engage you. You are to be ze May Queen in ze great Merchester Bageant.… But you must be goot and attend how I drill you. Ozzerwise I dismees you."
It appeared that Mr. Isidore had spent the afternoon with Mr. Colt, hunting the schools of Merchester in search of a child to suit his fastidious requirements. He had two of the gifts of genius— unwearying patience in the search, unerring swiftness in the choice.
Mr. Simeon, the rehearsal over, walked home heavily. On his way he paused to study the pit, and look up from it to the threatened mass of masonry. 'Not in my time, O Lord!'
And yet—
"From low to high doth dissolution climb,
And sink from high to low along a scale
Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail…
Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear
The longest date… drop like the tower sublime
Of yesterday, which royally did wear
His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain
Some casual shout that broke the silent air,
Or the unimaginable touch of Time."
"From low to high doth dissolution climb,
And sink from high to low along a scale
Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail…
Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear
The longest date… drop like the tower sublime
Of yesterday, which royally did wear
His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain
Some casual shout that broke the silent air,
Or the unimaginable touch of Time."
But Corona, breaking away from her playfellows and gaining the road to St. Hospital, skipped as she ran homeward, treading clouds of glory.