28 
“ Ah, my dear little girl, you must love with your 
soul and not with your eyes. The most beautiful 
things spring out of darkness and sadness. Don’t 
you know that your own goodness often grows out 
of the tears of sorrow, and out of tryings to be good, 
which are not very pleasant at the time ? 
“ My seeds repose quietly in the bulb till the 
spirit of life comes to quicken them, and then they 
begin to struggle upward; but it is not till after 
these gay robes wither and droop, that the germ 
rises into the light and air to ripen its seeds in the 
sun. We are not then so beautiful to the eye of 
man, but our destiny is fulfilled, and we are happy 
in the consciousness of holding in our bosoms the 
splendors of another year. 
“ My cousin Nudiflora does not put on her robes 
till autumn. She sa}^ the many-colored mantles 
of the forest trees then shed their glorious hues over 
