Page:Romance & Reality 2.pdf/204

202 shadows flung huge semblances of humanity far before them: a less excited frame of mind than Emily's might well have invested them with the idea of something actual and ominous. It was a relief to reach the broad open turf before the house. The room into which she meant to go fronted full west. The sun had set sometime, and his purple pageantry, like that of a forgotten monarch, had departed; but one or two rich clouds, like faithful hearts, retaining the memory of his gifts to the last, floated still on the air. The middle window of the oriel before her, just caught and reflected back the crimson light and colour. The ground below looked bright and warm compared with the shade around. One of those fancies which will, despite of reason, link some peculiar object and feeling together, now crossed Emily's mind: she took a little branch of geranium—it was all leaves, for whose lingering fragrance she had gathered it—and planted it in the most sheltered spot, by the steps: "If it flourish, I shall flourish; if it perish, so shall I." The window was open, and she entered the room. How dreary it looked! The carpet was taken up, the chairs ranged in formal order