How could
she, when she sought no higher import in her own--had not as
yet once suspected that every human gladness--even to the most
transient flicker of delight--is the reflex--from a potsherd
it may be--but of an eternal sun of joy?--Stay, let me pick up
the gem: every faintest glimmer, all that is not utter darkness,
is from the shining face of the Father of Lights.--Not a breath
stirred the ivy leaves about her window; but out there, on the
wide blue, the breezes were frolicking; and in the harbour the new
boat must be tugging to get free! She dressed in haste, called her
staghound, and set out the nearest way, that is by the town gate,
for the harbour. She must make acquaintance with her new plaything.
Mrs Catanach in her nightcap looked from her upper window as she
passed, like a great spider from the heart of its web, and nodded
significantly after her, with a look and a smile such as might mean,
that for all her good looks she might have the heartache some day.
But she was to have the first herself, for that moment her ugly
dog, now and always with the look of being fresh from an ash pit,
rushed from somewhere, and laid hold of Lady Florimel's dress,
frightening her so, that she gave a cry. Instantly her own dog,
which had been loitering behind, came tearing up, five lengths at
a bound, and descended like an angel of vengeance upon the offensive
animal, which would have fled, but found it too late. Opening his
huge jaws, Demon took him across the flanks, much larger than his
own, as if he had been a rabbit.
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