WYLDER'S HAJVD.
371
of truth in what you say, Rachel, and — no matter —
time as you say, and light — I don't understand you,
Rachel; hut there is this in you that resembles me —
-we both hate hypocrisy, and we are both, in our own ways,
proud. I'll come back, when I hear the carriage, and see
you for a moment, as you won't stay, or come with me,
and bid you good-bye."
So Dorcas went her way; and alone, on the terrace,
looking over the stone balustrade — over the rich and
sombre landscape, dim and vaporous in the twilight — she
still saw the pale face of Rachel — paler than she liked to
see it. Was she ill ? — and she thought how lonely she
would be if Rachel were to die — how lonely she was now.
There was a sting of compunction — a yearning — and
then started a few bitter and solitary tears.
In one of the great stone vases, that are ranged along
the terrace, there flourished a beautiful and rare rose.
Its fragrant petals were now strewn upon the terrace un-
derneath. One blossom only remained untarnished, and
Dorcas plucked it, and with it in her fingers, she returned
to the porch where Rachel remained.
"You see I have come back a little before my time,"
said Dorcas. "I have just been looking at the plant you
used to admire so much, and the leaves are shed already,
and it reminded me of our friendship, Radie; but I am
sure you are right; it will all bloom again after the win-
ter, you know, and I thought I would come back, and say
that, and give you this relic of the bloom that is gone —
the last token," and she kissed Rachel, as she placed it in
her fingers, "a token of remembrance and of hope."
"1 will keep it, Dorkie. It was kind of you," and
their eyes met regretfully.
"And — and, I think, I do trust you, Radie," said the
bejress of Brandon; "and I hope you will try to like me