"Oh, Smith, do you not know that it is a rainbow lily!" And rising, she took my hand and walked on again. "What is the rainbow lily?" "By-and-by, in a few days, it will be in fullest bloom, and the earth will be covered with its glory." "It is so late in the season, Yoletta! Spring is the time to see the earth covered with the glory of flowers." "There is nothing to equal the rainbow lily, which comes when most flowers are dead, or have their bright colors tarnished. Have you lived in the moon, Smith, that I have to tell you these things?" "No, dear, but in that island where all things, including flowers, were different." "Ah, yes; tell me about the island." Now "that island" was an unfortunate subject, and I was not prepared to break the resolution I had made of prudently holding my tongue about its peculiar institutions. "How can I tell you?--how could you imagine it if I were to tell you?" I said, evading the question. "You have seen the heavens black with tempests, and have felt the lightnings blinding your eyes, and have heard the crash of the thunder: could you imagine all that if you had never witnessed it, and I described it to you?" "No." "Then it would be useless to tell you. And now tell me about the rainbow lilies, for I am a great lover of flowers." "Are you? Is it strange you should have a taste common to all human beings?" she returned with a pretty smile. "But it is easier to ask questions than to answer them. If you had never seen the sun setting in glory, or the midnight sky shining with myriads of stars, could you imagine these things if I described them to you?" "No." "That word is an echo, Smith. You must wait for the earth to bring forth her rainbow lilies, and the heart its love." "With or without flowers, the world is a paradise to me, with you at my side, Yoletta. Ah, if you will be my Eve! How sweet it is to walk hand in hand with you in the twilight; but it was not so nice when you were scuttling from me like a wild rabbit. I'm glad to find that you do walk sometimes." "Yes, sometimes--on solemn occasions." "Yes? Tell me about these solemn occasions." "This is not one of them," she replied, suddenly withdrawing her hand from mine; then with a ringing laugh, she sped from me, bounding down the hill-side with the speed and grace of a gazelle.