Old Rose and Silver: Large Print

She turned her face toward the fire as a flower seeks the sun, but her deep eyes lookedbeyond it, into the fires of Life itself. A haunting sense of unfulfilment stirred her to vagueresentment, and she sighed as she rose and moved restlessly about the room. She lightedthe tall candles that stood upon the mantel-shelf, straightened a rug, moved a chair, andgathered up a handful of fallen rose-petals on her way to the window. She was about todraw down the shade, but, instead, her hand dropped slowly to her side, her fingersunclasped, and the crushed crimson petals fluttered to the floor.Outside, the purple dusk of Winter twilight lay soft upon the snow. Through an opening inthe evergreens the far horizon, grey as mother-of- pearl, bent down to touch the plain in amisty line that was definite yet not clear. At the left were the mountains, cold and calm, veiled by distances dim with frost