fairer fingers than the boy's own in the disposition of the rings of colour, red
campion and anemone, cowslip and speedwell, primroses and wood-hyacinths; and
rising out of the blue was a branch bearing thick white blossom, so thick, and
of so pure a whiteness, that Miss Middleton, while praising Crossjay for
soliciting the aid of Miss Dale, was at a loss to name the tree.
    »It is a gardener's improvement on the Vestal of the forest, the wild
cherry,« said Dr. Middleton, »and in this case we may admit the gardener's claim
to be valid, though I believe that, with his gift of double-blossom, he has
improved away the fruit. Call this the Vestal of civilization, then; he has at
least done something to vindicate the beauty of the office as well as the
justness of the title.«
    »It is Vernon's Holy Tree the young rascal has been despoiling,« said Sir
Willoughby merrily.
    Miss Middleton was informed that this double-blossom wild cherry-tree was
worshipped by Mr. Whitford.
    Sir Willoughby promised he would conduct her to it. »You,« he said to her,
»can bear the trial; few complexions can; it is to most ladies a crueller test
than snow. Miss Dale, for example, becomes old lace within a dozen yards of it.
I should like to place her under the tree beside you.«
    »Dear me, though; but that is investing the hamadryad with novel and
terrible functions,« exclaimed Dr. Middleton.
    Clara said, »Miss Dale could drag me into a superior Court to show me fading
beside her in gifts more valuable than a complexion.«
    »She has a fine ability,« said Vernon.
    All the world knew, so Clara knew of Miss Dale's romantic admiration of Sir
Willoughby; she was curious to see Miss Dale and study the nature of a devotion
that might be, within reason, imitable - for a man who could speak with such
steely coldness of the poor lady he had fascinated? Well, perhaps it was good
for the hearts of women to be beneath a frost; to be schooled, restrained,
turned inward on their dreams. Yes, then, his coldness was desireable; it
encouraged an ideal of him. It suggested and seemed to propose to Clara's mind
the divineness of separation instead of the deadly accuracy of an intimate
perusal. She tried to look on him as Miss Dale might look, and while partly
despising her for the dupery she envied,