May a man write of his
foolishness?--tears rushed to my eyes. Schwartz was far behind us when
my father caught sight of the magical flowers.

'Come!' said he, glowing, 'we will toast the Hohenstaufens and the
Hohenzollerns to-night, Richie.'

Later, when I was revelling in fancies sweeter than the perfume of the
roses, he pressed their stems reflectively, unbound them, and disclosed
a slip of crested paper. On it was written:

'Violets are over.'

Plain words; but a princess had written them, and never did so golden a
halo enclose any piece of human handiwork.

CHAPTER XXVII. THE TIME OF ROSES

I sat and thrilled from head to foot with a deeper emotion than joy. Not
I, but a detached self allied to the careering universe and having life
in it.

'Violets are over.'

The first strenuous effort of my mind was to grasp the meaning,
subtle as odour, in these words. Innumerable meanings wreathed away
unattainable to thought. The finer senses could just perceive them ere
they vanished. Then as I grew material, two camps were pitched and two
armies prepared to fight to establish one distinct meaning. 'Violets are
over, so I send you roses'; she writes you simple fact. Nay, 'Our
time of violets is over, now for us the roses'; she gives you heavenly
symbolism.

'From violets to roses, so run the seasons.'

Or is it,

'From violets to roses, thus far have we two travelled?'

But would she merely say, 'I have not this kind of flower, and I send
you another?'

True, but would she dare to say, 'The violets no longer express my
heart; take the roses?'

'Maidenly, and a Princess, yet sweet and grateful, she gives you the
gracefullest good speed.

'Noble above all human distinctions, she binds you to herself, if you
will it.'

The two armies came into collision, the luck of the day going to the one
I sided with.

But it was curiously observable that the opposing force recovered
energy from defeat, while mine languished in victory. I headed them
alternately, and--it invariably happened so.

'She cannot mean so much as this.'

'She must mean more than that.'

Thus the Absolute and the Symbolical factions struggled on. A princess
drew them as the moon the tides.

By degrees they subsided and united, each reserving its view; a point
at which I imagined myself to have regained my proper humility. 'The
princess has sent you these flowers out of her homely friendliness; not
seeing you to speak her