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    Rosemary in Search of a Father
    Rosemary in Search of a Father
    Rosemary in Search of a Father
    Ebook130 pages1 hour

    Rosemary in Search of a Father

    By C. N. (Charles Norris) Williamson, William Hatherell and A. M. (Alice Muriel) Williamson

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 15, 2013
    Rosemary in Search of a Father

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    • 3/5
      Rosemary: a Christmas story“The most beautiful girl in the world was not in his world now”A light but pleasant read set in Monte Carlo, where our lovesick millionaire hero, Hugh Egerton, has gone because “It would be Christmas soon, and he thought that he would rather get it over on the Riviera than anywhere else.” And when he meets up with an attractive young lady, it seems his luck may have changed…Rosemary takes centre stage in this tale – a most improbable five-year-old, whom one can just imagine being played by a young Shirley Temple!

    Book preview

    Rosemary in Search of a Father - C. N. (Charles Norris) Williamson

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rosemary in Search of a Father, by

    C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

    Title: Rosemary in Search of a Father

    Author: C. N. Williamson

    A. M. Williamson

    Illustrator: William Hatherell

    Release Date: January 9, 2010 [EBook #30907]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROSEMARY IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ***

    Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Woodie4 and the Online

    Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

    Evelyn and Rosemary climbed hand in hand, while Hugh carried the two huge baskets

    ROSEMARY

    IN SEARCH

    OF A

    FATHER

    BY

    C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON

    NEW YORK

    McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.

    MCMVII

    Copyright, 1906, by McClure, Phillips & Co.

    The illustrations in the book are by William Hatherell

    and the decorations by Thomas Maitland Cleland

    To Minda

    CONTENTS

    ILLUSTRATIONS

    ROSEMARY IN SEARCH OF A FATHER

    CHAPTER ONE

    THE WHITE GIRL ON THE TERRACE: THE ROSE GIRL AT THE CASINO

    HERE was a young man in Monte Carlo. He had come in a motor car, and he had come a long way, but he hardly knew why he had come. He hardly knew in these days why he did anything. But then, one must do something.

    It would be Christmas soon, and he thought that he would rather get it over on the Riviera than anywhere else, because the blue and gold weather would not remind him of other Christmases which were gone—pure, white, cold Christmases, musical with joy-bells and sweet with aromatic pine, the scent of trees born to be Christmas trees.

    There had been a time when he had fancied it would be a wonderful thing to see the Riviera. He had thought what it would be like to be a rich man, and bring a certain girl here for a moon of honey and roses.

    She was the most beautiful girl in the world, or he believed her so, which is exactly the same thing; and he had imagined the joy of walking with her on just such a terrace as this Casino terrace where he was walking now, alone. She would be in white, with one of those long ermine things that women call stoles; an ermine muff (the big, granny kind that swallows girlish arms up to the dimples in their elbows) and a hat which they would have bought together in Paris.

    They would have bought jewels, too, in the same street where they found the hat; the Rue de la Paix, which she had told him she longed to see. And she would be wearing some of the jewels with the white dress—just a few, not many, of course. A string of pearls (she loved pearls) a swallow brooch (he had heard her say she admired those swallow brooches, and he never forgot anything she said); with perhaps a sapphire-studded buckle on her white suéde belt. Yes, that would be all, except the rings, which would lie hidden under her gloves, on the dear little hands whose nails were like enamelled rose leaves.

    When she moved, walking beside him on the terrace, there would be a mysterious silky whisper and rustle, something like that you hear in the woods, in the spring, when the leaves are crisp with their pale green youth, and you shut your eyes, listening to the breeze telling them the secrets of life.

    There would be a fragrance about the white dress and the laces, and ermine, and the silk things that you could not see,—a fragrance as mysterious as the rustling, for it would seem to belong to the girl, and not to have come from any bottle, or bag of sachet powder. A sweet, fresh, indefinable fragrance, like the smell of a tea rose after rain.

    They would have walked together, they two, and he would have been so proud of her, that every time a passer-by cast a glance of admiration at her face, he would feel that he could hardly keep in a laugh of joy, or a shout, She is mine—she is mine.

    But he had been poor in the old days, when from far away he had thought of this terrace, and the moon of honey and roses, and love. It had all been a dream, then, as it was now; too sweet ever to come true.

    He thought of the dream, and of the boy who had dreamed it, half bitterly, half sadly, on this his first day in the place of the dream.

    He was rich—as rich as he had seen himself in the impossible picture, and it would have been almost too easy to buy the white dress, and the ermine, and the pearls. But there was no one for whom he would have been happy to buy them. The most beautiful girl in the world was not in his world now; and none other had had the password to open the door of his heart since she had gone out, locking it behind her.

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