Father had meant for her to have everything she wanted--he had said so, in the letter which at that moment lay against Rosemary's bitter young heart. He would have given her a pair of slippers like those Mrs. Lee had worn the day she went there to tea--black satin, with high heels and thin soles, cunningly embroidered with tiny steel beads. How small and soft the foot had seemed above the slipper; how subtly the flesh had gleamed through the fine black silk stocking!
She wondered whether father knew. No, probably not, for if he did, he would find some way to come and have it out with Grandmother--she was sure of that. God knew, of course--God knew everything, but why had He allowed Grandmother to do it? It was an inscrutable mystery to her that a Being with infinite power should allow things to go wrong.
For the moment Rosemary's faith wavered, then re-asserted itself. It was she who did not understand: the ways of the Everlasting were not her ways, and, moreover, they were beyond her finite comprehension. If she waited, and trusted, and meanwhile did the best she could, everything would be right somewhere, sometime. That must be what Heaven was, a place where things were always right for everybody.
Startled
Gradually her resentment passed away. The impassioned yearning for life, in all its fulness, that once had shaken her to the depths of her soul, had ceased to trouble or to beckon. It had become merely a question of getting through with this as creditably and easily as she might, and passing on to the next, whatever that might prove to be.
The ground upon which she sat was cold and damp. Rosemary shivered a little and was glad. Release might come in that way, though she doubted it. She was too hopelessly healthy ever to take cold, and in all her five and twenty years had never had a day's illness.
A step beside her startled her and a kindly voice said: "Why, Rosemary! You'll take cold!"
Crimson with embarrassment she sprang to her feet, shaking the soil from her skirts. "I--I didn't hear you coming," she stammered. "I must go."
New Plans
"Please don't," Alden responded. "Remember how long it is since I've seen you. How did you happen to come up here?"
"Because--oh, I don't know! I've come sometimes to see the vineyard. I've--I've liked to watch the people at work," she concluded, lamely. "I see so few people, you know."
Alden's face softened with vague tenderness. "Was it just this last Summer you've been coming, or has it been all along?"