Late one May morning when Graham entered her music room, she immediately sensed another's presence. She stood still just inside the door, trying to discern the unexpected visitor. Anna had made it clear to the various workers that Grahams music room was not to be violated.

"Anna?" she inquired with faint surprise.

"Yes," Anna answered uncertainly. She was standing with her back to the door and hadnt realized Graham was there until she spoke. She hadnt expected Graham at all. She was rarely about during the morning.

"What is it that youre doing?" Graham asked as she crossed the room. Her voice wasnt critical, merely curious.

"Im putting a vase of flowers on the mantle. I just picked them." she replied quietly. She was well aware that she had not been invited into Grahams study, but neither had Graham told her she was not welcome to go anywhere in the house she desired.

"To what purpose?" Graham asked darkly, "Did you think I might enjoy the color?" She didnt want reminders of what she could no longer see! Anna caught her breath as Graham stalked to the French doors, flinging them open to stand in the archway, her back to Anna.

"I thought you might enjoy the beauty of their scent. I only wish that you might enjoy the sight of them as well." Her voice quivered with both anger and uncertainty. She didnt want to hurt her, but she couldnt stand to see her deny all that remained to her. She stared at the rigid back, not realizing she was holding her breath, wondering if she had pushed this volatile, wounded woman too far. She waited for the hot flare of temper.

Graham drew a long steadying breath. "Forgive me," she said quietly. "That was unconscionably rude of me. Please accept my apology."

"I didnt mean to upset you," Anna replied. "You neednt apologize."

"I thought I could smell the roses on the wind last night," Graham said softly, her back still to Anna. The rigid stance relaxed, to be replaced by a weariness too often evident in her whip-slender frame.

Anna approached her cautiously, afraid Graham might retreat if startled. "Yes, theyre in bloom again now. Theyve been waiting so long."

"Have they?" Graham questioned, her gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the open terrace doors. "I would have thought they had simply perished by now."

"Their roots are deep, and strong," Anna said softly, wondering if they still spoke of the flowers. "The soil of Yardley is rich and fertile; it has nourished them all this time."

Graham stood very still, aware that Anna was close beside her. The air about them was filled with the perfume of new life.

"Nourishment alone is not always enough - living things need more than that. They would not have survived indefinitely without care," Graham said softly.

"No," Anna replied, swallowing the ache in her throat, "but they didnt have to." Impulsively, Anna grasped Grahams arm. "Walk with meIll show you."

Graham tensed at the first touch of Annas hand upon her arm. The sensation was so foreign it startled her. Then, with the grace born of her breeding, she tucked Annas hand in the bend of her elbow. "All right," she agreed, allowing Anna to lead the way.

As they strolled the meandering paths, Anna stopped frequently to describe the young flowers, drawing Grahams hand to the soft buds.

"Daffodils?" Graham asked as Anna brought a petal to her face.

Anna smiled. "Yes, - wait," she said, plucking another blossom. "And this?"

Graham cupped her fingers around Annas hand, bending her head over the flower nestled there. Softly, she inhaled. "Wisteria?" She looked up to Anna expectantly.

Anna stared into the questioning eyes, struck by there expressiveness. For an instant, she was certain that Graham could see her. She would give anything to make it so! Graham sensed the stirring of her emotionsAnnas hand trembled slightly in hers.

"Anna?"

Anna released the breath she hadnt realized she was holding.

"Youre very good. Right again!" she said, her voice thick with an emotion she couldnt name.

Graham slipped the blossom from Annas grasp and tucked it into the pocket of her shirt.

The simple gesture touched Anna. It pleased her unaccountably to bring the gardens to life for Graham. Each smile that passed Grahams lips, however fleeting, felt like a gift. Oddly, she was even enjoying their physical closeness. Even though Graham could maneuver the garden paths perfectly well, she made no move to remove the hand that Anna kept on her arm. Anna found herself curiously aware of the muscles rippling under her fingers as they walked. She forced herself to pay attention to the uneven terrain, trying to ignore the unusual fluttering in her stomach.

Graham stopped suddenly, a puzzled look on her face. She turned to her right and stretched out her hand.

"Where are the lilacs?"

Anna was startled that Graham should know. Grahams ability to orient herself in her environment continued to astound her. "Youre right, of course. Theyre here, but they were so badly overgrown that they havent flowered in years. I cut them back. In a year or two theyll flower again."

Graham leaned on her walking stick and sighed. So much was gone! "Im sorry. They were always so lovelythey were my favorites, I think, after the roses."

Anna place her hand over Grahams, whispering, "Theyll be back."

Graham shook her head, her expression once again dark. "There are some things, Anna, that once lost, simply cannot be restored. There is no use in struggling to reclaim them. That path leads only to greater disappointment."

"I cannot accept that," Anna insisted. "One must hope."

Graham remained silent as they made their way to the house. She knew only too well that with the passage of time, even hope would die.

********

Helen carried a tray into the music room as she did each evening, placing it on the table beside Graham. Tonight, Graham seemed lost in thought. She held a flower in her hand, tracing the petals absently with a fingertip. As Helen turned to leave, Graham called to her.

"Helen?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Sit a moment, wont you?"

Surprised by the unusual request, Helen sat anxiously waiting. Although she and Graham spoke often, their conversations were always casual. Graham never discussed her deepest thoughts, and never sought Helens advice. Even as a child she tended to make announcements about her intentions, such as the time she informed her father she wasnt going back to school. She never did. She had been eight.

"Would you like some champagne?" Graham asked as she filled her glass from the bottle by her side.

"Oh goodness, noyou know how silly I get when I drink that!"

Graham smiled. "You just talk a little moreyoure never silly."

Helen leaned to touch Grahams arm gently. "Is everything all right, dear? Is there something we need to talk about?"

"Anna," Graham replied after a moment. "Do you think shes happy here? It must be very lonely for a young woman so far away from the city, with no friends nearby."

Helen had known the woman before her since the day she was born. She had seen her through triumph and great tragedy. She had watched her lock her heart and mind and great talent away in the empty rooms of this house for a dozen years. This was the first time in all those years that Graham had mentioned another person, let alone noticed someone enough to question their happiness. Annas presence had penetrated Grahams self-imposed isolation, and that was close to a miracle. Helen chose her words with care.

"She seems to love it here, Graham. Why, I can hardly remember what it was like before she came."

Graham made an impatient gesture. "Nor I. But thats not the point. Yardley is our homewe chose this place, this life, you and I. Anna didnt. We mustnt take advantage of her kindness, or hercaring."

Helen thought she had an inkling of what really concerned Graham. Anna was an unusual woman. She appreciated Grahams notoriety, had understood her fame, and yet she was not overwhelmed by it. In Grahams entire life, there had been very few who had ever dared approach her with friendship. Her imposing personality and public stature prevented ordinary relationships. People were either afraid of her intensity, or her temper - or they wanted something from her. She had had many followers, and many would-be friends, but it was rare that anyone tried to know her. Grahams personal attachments had most often been the source of her greatest disappointments. After all these years alone, she would surely distrust any type of intimacy.

"Graham, Anna is a grown woman. And shes made a lot of hard decisions in her life. Leaving a marriage is hard, even when its not a good one, and I imagine striking out on her own without much security was hard, too. But, she is strong and independent, and she knows what shes about. Shes here because she wants to be, and if she becomes unhappy, I imagine shell do something about that herself. I dont think theres anything to worry about."

Graham relaxed perceptibly. "Helen?"

"Yes, dear?"

"What does she look like?"

Helen appreciated what a difficult question that was for Graham to ask. Graham knew the description of every piece of clothing in her closet, and insisted that each item be returned from the cleaners in a certain order. She never asked for assistance in dressing, never asked for help if she needed something to eat, never asked for any help at all. The only concession she made to her lack of sight was the necessity of keeping the furniture in one place. For her to make a direct reference to her inability to see was unheard of.

"Oh, lord, that is a hard one," Helen exclaimed, nonplused.