With
no tie of blood it yet was filial, sisterly, brotherly, national,
chivalrous; happy, unalloyed sentiment, free from ups and downs, from
heats and chills, from rivalry, from caprice; and, indeed, from all
mortal accidents but one--and why say one? methinks death itself does
but suspend these gentle, rare, unselfish amities a moment, then waft
them upward to their abiding home.
CHAPTER XV.
It was a fair morning in June: the sky was a bright, deep, lovely,
speckless blue: the flowers and bushes poured perfume, and sprinkled
song upon the balmy air. On such a day, so calm, so warm, so bright, so
scented, so tuneful, to live and to be young is to be happy. With gentle
hand it wipes all other days out of the memory; it smiles, it smells,
it sings, and clouds and rain and biting wind seem as far off and
impossible as grief and trouble.
Camille and Josephine had stolen out, and strolled lazily up and down
close under the house, drinking the sweet air, fragrant with perfume and
melody; the blue sky, and love.
Rose was in the house. She had missed them; but she thought they must be
near; for they seldom took long walks early in the day.
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