Reluctantly she turns her head from the moonlit garden and passes from the window. She lifts her hands abstractedly to remove the wrap from her shoulders, and in so doing touches the rose that droops upon her bosom. Her fingers close upon it: she plucks it from her dress, presses it to her lips, and though its first fresh fragrance has gone, lingers tenderly over the faint aroma which remains. The crimson rose gives form and colour, deep colour, to the vague sentimental imaginings of the young girl’s mind. She clasps it tightly as she crosses the room, keeping her gaze upon it as she presently sinks into a chair. It is the heart and focus of her thoughts. But lassitude overcomes her, her eyelids droop, and the rose, slipping through her loosened fingers, falls from her lap to the floor. ALLEGRO VIVACE.--A spectral form leaps swiftly into the pale moonbeams, and alights at the threshold of the open window. The visitant thus lightly appearing, like a leaf before the fitful eddy of a [Illustration] summer’s evening breeze, is seen to have the semblance of a comely youth, but strangely garbed in rose leaves of crimson-purple hue. It is, indeed, the spectre of the fallen rose, the embodiment of the young girl’s sentimental impulses and imaginings. An image more material would be too gross for maiden meditations so innocent and youthful: it needs must be fantastically that the gentle sleeper’s dream takes shape before our eyes. It would be as vain to describe the movements of the phantom visitant, as to seek to convey the sound of language without regard for the meaning it expresses. Movements may have an intrinsic grace and beauty, as words that utter no meaning may possess a splendour of sound. But the dance is to movement what language is to words: it implies selection and co-ordination for the purpose of expressing something--in this case the very essence of the sentimental emotions which the vibrant music of the strings evokes. Never was the ecstasy of the valse so irresistibly expressed. Leaping, swaying, its whole being abandoned to the intoxicating rhythm, the dancing phantom seems to draw the very power which animates it from the music’s throbbing pulse. Deep in her romantic dream the young girl slumbers passive in her chair, till presently the spectral visitant pauses by her side. It leans towards her, while its hands make gentle passes that subdue her utterly to the magic rhythm. Obedient to the spell she rises to her feet and, yielding herself to the tender guidance proffered, she joins her phantom partner in the dance. It is a scene of exquisite beauty, this vision of a young girl’s innocent dream of love and joy. Abandoning herself to the allurement of the moment, she dances long and joyously until, at length exhausted, she sinks once more upon her cushions, with her fantastic ideal--climax of ecstasy--prostrate at her feet. She has but to stretch forth her hand. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration]