But A Rose Has Thorns

The May day, the day of fulfilment for Smiles' dreams and the fruition
of her work, had come. Her healthy, mountain-bred body had enabled her
to keep well and strong; she had gone through the full three years with
scarcely a day's illness, and she was ready to graduate with the class,
some of whom would have to stay longer to make up time lost by illness.

Rose awoke early to a sense of something unusual in prospect. On the
window of her room the rain was pattering merrily. All nature was one to
her, and she loved the showers as much as the sunshine, but, when she
began to realize what day it was, they brought a feeling of vague
disappointment. Surely _this_ day, which meant so much in her life,
might have dawned fair! The glimpse of a leaden sky colored her thoughts
for a moment, as she lay still in the drowsy relaxation of
half-awakening, when dreams beckon from _dolce far niente_ land, and the
whispering voice of slumber mingles with the more stirring call of the
brain to be up and doing. The recollection that Donald was far away, and
could not be with her to witness her triumph, brought a sense of bitter
disappointment to her over again. "I must write him everything that
happens to-day. He will be happy in my happiness, I know," she murmured,
half aloud, and her roommate awoke and answered with a sleepy, "What,
dear?"