“Oh, look! look! look! Did you ever? Did you ever? Did you ever?” exclaimed Owlet, in a rapture of delight, not once turning her eyes from the something that entranced her.
Surprised at this outburst of wild enthusiasm from the usually grave and non-admiring child, Roma stepped out of bed and went to the window.
She saw nothing unusual there, only the sunlit heavens and earth, the deep blue sky, with a few soft white clouds, the green, wooded hills and vales, and, nearer the house, gently sloping uplands covered with orchards of apple, peach and cherry trees in full blossom, making a forest of pink and white and red bloom; and just under the window the newly set flower beds, with the early spring crocuses, pansies, violets, tulips, jonquils, daffodils and hyacinths, just breaking into bloom.
Yet Roma understood that to the city child all this must seem enchanting.
“Oh, it’s like heaven! Isn’t it like heaven? Isn’t it the Garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve used to live? Oh! I could just jump out of the window into it all! Oh! I must put on my clothes and run out into it all! I must! I must! I must! George Thomas is asleep in his basket.”
And she dressed herself more quickly than she had ever done in her life, and, without thinking of asking leave, she darted downstairs and out of the front door.
For a few minutes Roma watched her from the window, doubtful lest the little savage might not, in her eagerness to possess herself of some of these marvelous treasures, root up and trample down Pompous Pirate’s parterres.
But, no. Roma was surprised and pleased to see the effect their beauty had upon the child, how she suddenly stood still and looked down on the budding daffodils, how tenderly she touched them with the tips of her lingers.
Roma called to her:
“Catherine!”