It might have been plucked and placed in the water that morning, so fair it bloomed--a red, red rose.
Ah, Verity! Little Angel Child! * * * * * * It was said in sunny Florence in the years that followed, and, later on, it was remarked in Rome, that if the Lord High Cardinal--kindest of men--was tried almost beyond bearing, if even _his_ calm patience seemed in danger of ruffling, or if he was weary, or sad, or disheartened, he had a way of slipping his hand into the bosom of his scarlet robe, as if he gently fingered something that lay against his heart.
Whereupon at, once his brow grew serene again, his blue eyes kindly and bright, his lips smiled that patient smile which never failed; and, as he drew forth his hand, the stone within his ring, though pale before, glowed deep red, as juice of purple grapes in a goblet..