Flower Park

Viola followed no path, but walked on, deeper and deeper, her fingers brushing the bark of the old trees in affectionate greeting as she walked past them. She was in no hurry. Rather, she wandered slowly, savoring the feeling of peace peace and tranquility, the hem of her cloak, brushing the ground behind her as she walked. Pushing aside the intricately patterned branches of a large fern, she came to the hidden pond. As she took off her shoes and was about to step into the clear water, she jumped, noticing for the first time a man there. Please, forgive me, my lord. I thought I was alone. She said a bit embarrassed.

Indeed, it is, Viola murmured as and spread her skirt out on the grass like a blanket and sat down. She smoothed down the material and then glanced at the young gentleman next to her. He was a handsome man, more handsome then she thought at first. It always has been difficult, my lord. A courting is like a game of chess. She said this with humor in her voice.