Page:The black tulip (IA 10892334.2209.emory.edu).pdf/180

 did not venture on a belief that Rosa would, of her own accord, have abridged the term of his probation.

“She? Well! my daughter, the tulip,” said Rosa.

“What!” cried Cornelius, “you give me permission, then?”

“I do,” said Rosa with the tone of an affectionate mother, who grants a pleasure to her child.

“Ah, Rosa!” said Cornelius, putting his lips to the grating, with the hope of touching a cheek, a hand, a forehead—anything, in short.

He touched something much better—two warm and half open lips.

Rosa uttered a slight scream.

Cornelius understood that he must make haste to continue the conversation. He guessed that this unexpected kiss had frightened Rosa.

“Is it growing up straight?” he asked.

“Straight as a rocket,” said Rosa.

“How high?”

“At least two inches.”

“Oh, Rosa, take good care of it, and we shall soon. see it grow quickly.”

“Can I take more care of it?” said she; “indeed I think of nothing else but the tulip.”

"Of nothing else, Rosa? Why now, I shall grow jealous in my turn.”

“Oh, you know that to think of the tulip is to think of you; I never lose sight of it. I see it from my bed; on my awaking, it is the first object that meets my eyes; and on falling asleep the last on which they rest. During the day I sit and work by its side, for I have never left my chamber since I put it there.”

“You are right, Rosa, it is your dowry, you know.”

“Yes, and with it I may marry a young man of twenty-six or twenty-eight years, whom I shall be in love with.”