. In the forest of Arden. ;iW;-- ??•>w^5ll« ^/;fiifl!RRri!L phere of Arden, yield some truth ofcharacter or experience which, like therose, makes even the rough calyx whichencased it beautiful. We had some-times spoken together of our return ilto the world we had left, but we putoff as long as possible all definite prep-arations. I am not sure that I shouldever have come back if Rosalind hadnot taken the matter into her ownhands. She remembered that therewas work to be done which oughtnot to be longer postponed; that therewere duties to be met which ought notto be longer evaded; and when di


. In the forest of Arden. ;iW;-- ??•>w^5ll« ^/;fiifl!RRri!L phere of Arden, yield some truth ofcharacter or experience which, like therose, makes even the rough calyx whichencased it beautiful. We had some-times spoken together of our return ilto the world we had left, but we putoff as long as possible all definite prep-arations. I am not sure that I shouldever have come back if Rosalind hadnot taken the matter into her ownhands. She remembered that therewas work to be done which oughtnot to be longer postponed; that therewere duties to be met which ought notto be longer evaded; and when didgRosalind fail to be or to do that which|the hour and the experience com-manded? We treasured the last daysas if the minutes were pure gold;we lingered in talk with our friendsas if we should never again hearsuch spoken words; we loitered in thewoods as if the spell of that beautiful. li ii6 ^^^^Mmm.


Size: 1303px × 1918px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookauthormabieham, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1903