I do n't look the least little bit like her , do I ? '' `` No , I wish you did , you brown thing . Your mother 's face was as white as a wood-lily , with only a faint dream of rose in her cheeks . She had the eyes of one who always had a song in her heart -- blue as a mist , those eyes were . She had dark lashes , and a little red mouth that quivered when she was very sad or very happy like a crimson rose too rudely shaken by the wind . She was as slim and lithe as a young , white-stemmed birch tree . How I loved her ! How happy we were ! But he who accepts human love must bind it to his soul with pain , and she is not lost to me . Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it . '' Uncle Blair looked up at the evening star . We saw that he had forgotten us , and we slipped away , hand in hand , leaving him alone in the memory-haunted shadows of the old orchard . CHAPTER XXVIII . THE PATH TO ARCADY October that year gathered up all the spilled sunshine of the summer and clad herself in it as in a garment . The Story Girl had asked us to try to make the last month together beautiful , and Nature seconded our efforts , giving us that most beautiful of beautiful things -- a gracious and perfect moon of falling leaves . There was not in all that vanished October one day that did not come in with auroral splendour and go out attended by a fair galaxy of evening stars -- not a day when there were not golden lights in the wide pastures and purple hazes in the ripened distances . Never was anything so gorgeous as the maple trees that year . Maples are trees that have primeval fire in their souls . It glows out a little in their early youth , before the leaves open , in the redness and rosy-yellowness of their blossoms , but in summer it is carefully hidden under a demure , silver-lined greenness . Then when autumn comes , the maples give up trying to be sober and flame out in all the barbaric splendour and gorgeousness of their real nature , making of the hills things out of an Arabian Nights dream in the golden prime of good Haroun Alraschid .
You may never know what scarlet and crimson really are until you see them in their perfection on an October hillside , XXXXX the unfathomable blue of an autumn sky .
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