s to roses, so run the seasons.'

Or is it,

'From violets to roses, thus far have we two travelled?'

But would she merely say, 'I have not this kind of flower, and I send you
another?'

True, but would she dare to say, 'The violets no longer express my heart;
take the roses?'

'Maidenly, and a Princess, yet sweet and grateful, she gives you the
gracefullest good speed.

'Noble above all human distinctions, she binds you to herself, if you
will it.'

The two armies came into collision, the luck of the day going to the one
I sided with.

But it was curiously observable that the opposing force recovered energy
from defeat, while mine languished in victory. I headed them alternately,
and--it invariably happened so.

'She cannot mean so much as this.'

'She must mean more than that.'

Thus the Absolute and the Symbolical factions struggled on. A princess
drew them as the moon the tides.

By degrees they subsided and united, each reserving its view; a point at
which I imagined myself to have regained my proper humility. 'The
princess has sent you these flowers out of her homely friendliness; not
seeing you to speak her farewell, she, for the very reason that she can
do it innocent of any meaning whatsoever, bids you be sure you carry her
esteem with you. Is the sun of blue heavens guilty of the shadow it
casts? Clear your mind. She means nothing. Warmth and beauty come from
her, and are on you for the moment. But full surely she is a thing to be
won: she is human: did not her hand like a gentle snake seek yours, and
detain it, and bear it away into the heart of her sleep?--Be moderate.
Let not a thought or a dream spring from her condescension, lest you do
outrage to her noble simplicity. Look on that high Hohenzollern hill-top:
she also is of the line of those who help to found illustrious Houses:
what are you?'

I turned to my father and stared him in the face. What was he? Were we
not losing precious time in not prosecuting his suit? I put this question
to him, believing that it would sound as too remote from my thoughts to
betray them. He glanced at the roses, and answered gladly,

'Yes!--no, no! we must have our holiday. Mr. Peterborough is for
exploring a battle-field in the neighbourhood of Munich. He shall. I wish
him to see the Salzkammergut, and have a taste of German Court-life.
Allow me to be captain, Richie, will you? I will show you how battles are
gained and mountains are scaled. That young