"Still, thy reward may be great, sweet flower. Look higher than the homely flowers of thy home, for the blossom beyond the walls may be far more rare, and may outshine them all."

So the Rose-Mallow prepared to follow the Princess's advice, and to leave the lilies, and lupins, and all the sweets of the garden behind him.

As Myra turned to go, she noticed that the Violet had drooped and lay panting. She hurried to fetch it some water, for which it returned her modest thanks. She wondered what ailed it to faint in the cool of the morning, when the earth was yet damp with early rain. Then it struck her that the Violet's love for the Rose-Mallow would be of no use if he found the Evening Primrose. "And I suppose that would make her unhappy,"

she said aloud, as she plucked a bunch of heartsease and placed it in her dress, the wonder in her eyes deepening into an expression of grave, severe thoughtfulness.

III.

Protected by a hedge of myrtle, in the heart of a mighty forest, Love had fashioned his bower. His couch was strewn with honey-flowers and rose-leaves. Stately red chrysanthemums made splashes of crimson brilliance against the dark green of the scented myrtle. Pink carnations, roses of every hue, sweetbriar, ambrosia, balsams, forget-me-nots, and every flower sacred to the great G.o.d, Love, grew in profusion, to make his bower into a resting-place worthy of him.

He lay tossing on his fragrant couch in a fit of anger. For some time Princess Myra's disdain of all the great princes and n.o.bles whom he had sent to woo her had offended him deeply. But on this particular afternoon his messengers had informed him of the maiden's morning interview with the Rose-Mallow, and of the question she had asked with regard to himself. Unable to forget the Princess's impertinence, he lay brooding and fretting, until the position of the sun warned him that the day was pa.s.sing away.

"What is this Love for which the whole earth pines?" he murmured, as he bounded from his couch into a cl.u.s.ter of forget-me-nots. "Ah! I will teach thee. Thou shalt learn, ere the day is dead, what Love is. In the semblance of an earthly prince, I will woo thee myself. I will adore thee, sweet Myra, gaze into thine eyes, and pretend that there is only one woman in all the world for me. I will do as men do--pet thee, and coax thee, and win thy affections by the thousand little nothings that make up a courtship. When I have conquered thee, and thy heart is mine, I will break it and trample it under foot, and leave thee all thy life a remembrance of the power of Love. Thou shalt never hear sweet music, but a desperate longing for my presence shall come over thee. Thou shalt never see a rose, but thy heart shall bleed. The sight of a lark, winging his morning flight heavenwards, shall draw tears to thy weary eyes. Ah! woe betide the mortal maid when Eros is her lover!"

"These," he said, choosing a hundred chrysanthemums, "shall be my escort."

As he spoke, the flowers were transformed into a hundred gallant knights; their dresses were of crimson brocade, and on their heads were caps of chrysanthemum petals. Then Love took up honey-flowers and rose-leaves, and changed them into a suit of rich purple silk.

Meanwhile the King had been having a far from pleasant interview with Her Majesty on the subject of their daughter.

"Indeed, it is not my fault," the Queen had said. "I cannot help it if our child's heart is still whole."

"But, my dear love, thou never givest her any counsel. If thou wert to tell her that it is meet she should marry one of the many lords who desire her I feel a.s.sured she would do thy will."

The Queen burst into tears. Knowing the girl's parentage as she did, how could she advise her to accept a mortal for her husband? Yet she dared not tell the King of Myra's birth; she must always keep the hateful secret to herself. Oh that she had chosen the straight path when the choice had been hers!

The King was distressed to see her weep. But just at that moment he observed a small fleet with crimson sails flying up the river towards the royal landing-stage.

"Why, that must be another suitor for our daughter's hand!" he exclaimed.

All the flowers remarked the pretty boats scudding along in the late afternoon sunlight. The Rose-Mallow alone was too busily employed in climbing the wall to observe what circ.u.mstance was disturbing the flower-garden. The ladies of the palace, the lords and the pages, were aware of the visit of the Prince long before he had landed. The household was greatly agitated. Their Majesties hurried to the audience chamber, to find the Court already a.s.sembled to receive the high-born visitor. Myra alone was unconscious of the advent of another suitor. Had she known of it, the fact would only have annoyed her somewhat, and made her eyes a trifle more wistful than they usually were.

Suddenly the Queen entered the Princess's room trembling with excitement.

"My child, my child! thou must proceed at once to the audience chamber, by the King's commands. A great Prince has come to woo thee."

Myra was robed in a loose gown of fine linen, her dark hair hung upon her shoulders, and a book which she had been reading lay open on her knee.

"Oh, come, let me clothe thee!" cried the Queen, a.s.sisting the girl to her feet and hurrying her into the adjoining room, where, with nervous fingers, she bound up the thick hair in embroidered bands of opals and diamonds. Then, opening a cedar chest which stood at the end of the apartment, she drew forth a dress, and was about to slip it over the Princess's head, when Myra started back in amazement.

"My royal Queen, I cannot wear that garment," she said. "Why, it cost the King, my father, over a hundredweight in gold. I was warned to keep it only for great occasions."

"Foolish girl, is not thy betrothal a great occasion? Ah! I do not jest.

Pause until thou hast seen the youth who awaits thee. He is handsome beyond all men that even I, old as I am, have ever looked upon."

The Princess was struck by the Queen's enthusiasm. She allowed herself to be attired in the superb robe which had been a present from the King.

It was fashioned of rich silk, and had a design of lilies round the hem and on the sleeves, each flower being worked with opals and diamonds.

Twenty maidens had been employed for twenty months embroidering the costly pattern. In sunlight the fabric was pale sea-green, bordering on silver-grey; but when the sky was dull there were faint purple tones in its folds, like the soft bloom on the fruit of the plum-tree.

When Myra entered the hall a murmur of admiration fell from the lips of the a.s.sembly. She had never looked so lovely. She seemed to stand in a halo of light; the opals on her dress reflected themselves in the diamonds, making a haze of pale fantastic colour, strange as it was beautiful. As she entered, the Prince was talking apart with the King; so she had a moment in which to observe him before he knew of her advent. He appeared to be a merry youth, with golden curls and blue eyes that were full of mirth and the love of fun. He turned and saw her, and fell on one knee and took her hand, lifting up his face to hers. Then, as he gazed upon her, the brightness and the mirth that had illuminated his lovely countenance died away. She looked down to see his eyes filled with a new meaning, a wondrous expression of mingled tenderness and pain shadowed them. She looked down to see large tears furrowing his cheeks.

She looked down to love him!

IV.

"In good sooth, sweet lady, thou art beautiful beyond all women that I, old as I am, have ever seen," said the Prince, in curious repet.i.tion of the Queen's description of himself, as he and Myra walked in the palace gardens that night.

"But thou art not old, thou art very young, my lord; and perhaps it is thy lack of experience which makes thee think so," answered the Princess, modestly hanging her head and seeking to hide her face.

A deep shadow pa.s.sed over his countenance, and his heart bled at the thought of the pain that his trick would cause the maiden by his side.

Of the everlasting wound it would inflict on him he dared not think.

"And thou hast lived here all thy life?" he asked, desirous of changing the subject.

"All my life," she answered.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"And art thou quite happy?"

"Good sir, I thought I was; I never wished to change my lot until to-day."

"Ah! I have heard of thy dislike of the many suitors who sought thy hand."

"Not my dislike, but my indifference. I did not believe in Love. Though it was all around me in Nature, still I had never known it; and there was something so imperfect, so earthly, in the great princes who wished to marry me. Until to-day I was blindly ignorant."

"Until to-day!" reiterated the Prince, gazing at her with eyes indescribably tender and yearning.

"But since thou hast asked my father for my hand, and he hath given his consent, I may tell thee all I feel, may I not?"

"Ah, sweet Princess! I know all that thou dost feel; I feel all that thou wouldst say."

Then they were silent for some time. The moon shone, and the floor of heaven was studded with silver stars. The flowers were asleep, excepting the Evening Primrose. Myra saw her in the arms of Night, and heard their gentle voices. She thought of the Rose-Mallow, and pondered with new-born sympathy on the Violet's pain.

"Dear one, we must part now," said the Prince, as they paused before the palace gates. "But ere thou goest, tell me, wouldst thou be very unhappy if I never came to thee again?"

A cold fear entered the Princess's heart.

"My dear lord," she said, "I was only born to-day. My past was not life, therefore I am as a little child, and cannot answer thee with wisdom; but inquire of the flowers, whether they would be sad should the sun rise no more. Ah! would they not perish? Would not the world lie down and die from cold? Then, good my lord, and thou lovest me, ask me not so cruel a question."

"It is fate," he murmured, as he held her in his arms and soothed away her pain with tender words.

The Princess awoke the next morning to find the Queen seated beside her bed. Myra was too much in love to notice things which would have impressed her under ordinary circ.u.mstances, else she would have thought her royal mother's manner unnecessarily excitable, and would have wondered what secret trouble had suddenly so changed the stately Queen's appearance.

"My child, thy lover waits for thee in thy workroom, therefore rise and robe thee. But before thou goest to him I want thee to refuse the gift with which he will present thee. I am sure it will bring thee ill-luck."

"But good my mother, the Prince loves me too well to offer me aught that could be a source of sorrow to me. What is the gift?"