“‘The road of Life Is the path to my wife. Its struggles and turmoils ended— Horses so white they dazzle the sun, A car of dazzling glory spun, Driver all fearless of peril. From depth to height the race is run, The equipage right royal. The meet a queen come decked as a queen In shining garments past satin, With pearl-sewn tears to laughter changed And heart-blood drops to jewels. A thousand colours of rainbow light The trophies of many a hard-won fight, Before pale faith was lost in sight And eyes cease weeping on trial. A driver find, A purse well lined, A gate and road all open. And horses six, To avoid the Styx, Yet climb the invisible mountain.’ There now, Brightcoat, what do you think of that? Can you fathom it? I think it’s a very charming puzzle.” “Who do you think wrote it?” “Why, the Governor! And out of compliment to his wife I feel bound somehow or other to—to endeavour to accomplish the task set me.” “Horses so white they dazzle the sun, and six of them,” said Brightcoat thoughtfully. “Do you think you’ll ever manage it?” “I don’t know. But there’s no harm in trying.” And she laughed again, and was most becomingly dressed in no time. Then together, the frog taking its accustomed place upon her shoulder, they descended the staircase. In the hall Miss Crokerly and her brother stood talking, he in a thick overcoat ready for going out. Rosalie approached and handed her letter to him, which he received kindly, though with some surprise. “I found it in my bag,” said she, “and had no idea it was there. I think you are Sir John?” “Yes.” After he had read the letter enclosed, he handed it to his sister. She read it with evident interest, then returned it to him, and holding out her hand to the new-comer, said: “We’re very pleased to receive you, Rosalie. And as long as you care to stay with us you will be welcome, apart from any considerations except those of friendship.” “I’m afraid I’m too poor to accept your hospitality for a longer time than it takes me to find work.” “Poor? The letter to my brother is from the wealthiest banker of our acquaintance, the safest and surest. And his statement proves you anything but poor.” Then Rosalie remembered the jewels she had found, and remained silent. She had prized them very much and loved them, and now she understood their value, in one of those flashes of perception that occasionally comes to all of us. After that Sir John went away, and Miss Crokerly led the way into the dining-room, where breakfast was laid for Rosalie only, as the others had long since had theirs.