The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. Presently he felt motion. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. . 'Sdeath! what can I have done with it? Oh! here it is," cried Hogarth, picking it from the ground. Now the sense of beauty was spreading to a multitude of hitherto unsuspected aspects of the world about her.
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