desert and ocean, with the scent of the spice-groves and palm-aisles of the east in his breath, and softly unclosing my lattice, murmured to me, "Didst thou think I was faithless? See, I come with the spring!"
So, though I was captive and they two were poor, yet we three were all happy; for love and a new year of promise were with us.
I bore a little snowy blossom (sister to the one which slept lifeless on René's heart) that spring, whilst yet the swallows were not back from the African gardens, and the first violets were carried in millions through the streets,—the only innocent imperialists that the world has ever seen.
That little winter-begotten darling of mine was to be Lili's nuptial-flower. She took it so tenderly from me, that it hardly seemed like its death.
"My little dear rose, who blossoms for me, though I can only cage her in clay, and only let her see the sun's rays between the stacks of the chimneys!" she said softly over me as she kissed me; and when she said that, could I any more grieve for Provence?
"What do they wed upon, those two?" said the old vine to me.
And I answered him: "Hope and dreams."
"Will those bake bread and feed babes?" said
