Mac flashed a quick look at her and shut the book, saying quietly, although his eyes shone, and a conscious smile lurked about his mouth: “We shall see, and no one need meddle, for, as my Thoreau says,
“Whate'er we leave to God, God does
And blesses us: The work we choose should be our own
God lets alone.”
Rose sat silent, as if conscious that she deserved his poetical reproof.
“Come, you have catechized me pretty well; now I'll take my turn and ask you why you look 'uplifted,' as you call it. What have you been doing to make yourself more like your namesake than ever?” asked Mac, carrying war into the enemy's camp with the sudden question.
“Nothing but live, and enjoy doing it. I actually sit here, day after day, as happy and contented with little things as Dulce is and feel as if I wasn't much older than she,” answered the girl, feeling as if some change was going on in that pleasant sort of pause but unable to describe it.
“As if a rose should shut and be a bud again,” murmured Mac, borrowing from his beloved Keats.
“Ah, but I can't do that! I must go on blooming whether I like it or not, and the only trouble I have is to know what leaf I ought to unfold next,” said Rose, playfully smoothing out the white gown, in which she looked very like a daisy among the green.
“How far have you got?” asked Mac, continuing his catechism as if the fancy suited him.
“Let me see. Since I came home last year, I've been gay, then sad, then busy, and now I am simply happy. I don't know why, but seem to be waiting for what is to come next and getting ready for it, perhaps unconsciously,” she said, looking dreamily away to the hills again, is if the new experience was coming to her from afar.
Mac watched her thoughtfully for a minute, wondering how many more leaves must unfold before the golden heart of this human flower would lie open to the sun. He felt a curious desire to help in some way, and could think of none better than to offer her what he had found most helpful to himself. Picking up another book, he opened it at a place where an oak leaf lay and, handing it to her, said, as if presenting something very excellent and precious: “If you want to be ready to take whatever comes in a brave and noble way, read that, and the one where the page is turned down.”