Which Recounts Three Awakenings

And now, having found this little bag, he lay with brow still
troubled as one in some deep perplexity, the while his fingers felt
and fumbled with it clumsily. This was the little bag indeed; he
knew it by reason of its great, uneven stitches and its many knots
and ends of cotton; yes, this was it beyond all doubt, and yet?
Truly it was the same, but with a difference.

Now as he lay thus, being full of trouble because of this difference
which he could in no wise understand, he drew a deep sigh, which was
answered all at once by another; the soft clicking sound abruptly
ceased and he knew that some one had risen and now stood looking down
at him. Therefore Barnabas presently turned his head and saw a face
bent over him, a face with cheeks suspiciously pink, framed in curls
suspiciously dark and glossy, but with eyes wonderfully young and
bright and handsome; in one small, white hand was a needle and silk,
and in the other, a very diminutive piece of embroidery.

"Why, Barnabas!" said the Duchess, very gently, "dear boy--what is it?
Ah! you've found it then, already--your sachet? Though indeed it
looks more like a pudding-bag--a very small one, of course. Oh, dear
me! but you're not a very good needlewoman, are you, Barnabas?
Neither am I--I always prick my fingers dreadfully. There--let me
open it for you--so! Now, while I hold it, see what is inside."

Then, wondering, Barnabas slipped a clumsy thumb and finger into the
little bag and behold the faded wisp had become transfigured and
bloomed again in all its virgin freshness. For in his hand there lay
a great, scarlet rose, as sweet and fresh and fragrant as
though--for all the world as though it had been plucked that very
morning.