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Robert and I passed another hour of bliss, and I think we must have got to the sixth heaven by now Robert says the seventh is for the end, when we are married. Well, that will be soon. Oh, I am too happy to write coherently! I did not wake till late this morning, and Véronique came and said my sitting-room was again full of flowers. The darling Robert is!

A table, placed by the window, was covered with artificial flowers of exquisite workmanship, and, while he yet lingered in the chamber, Bettina, the maid, entered from the street door, with a basket filled with the same flowers looked at Anna, and shook her head mournfully. The young girl's lips quivered, and she pressed the tears back when she saw no purchaser had been found for her labour.

You must do one of these two things, you may do the best. Remember I do not say you can do them for or by yourselves, but you can do them. God has said so. The flowers cannot choose or ask for food, and so God chooses for them and gives without asking.

"Well, this is the last of us!" exclaimed the thistle; "we're going to die, and that's the end of it all!" "No, no," cried the old oak-tree; "we shall not die; we are going to sleep. Here, take my leaves, little flowers, and you shall sleep warm under them. Then, when you awaken, you shall see how much sweeter and happier the new life is." The little ones were very weary indeed.

There was no sound save the languid morning notes of the birds and the humming of the bees among the flowers as Antoinette went tremblingly down the path and paused, listening, under the branches of that oak where I had first beheld her. Then, with a little cry, we saw her run forward into the arms of Auguste de St. Gre. It was a pitiful thing to look upon.

Thus I make prize of five or six, which are as many as usually blossom within my reach in a single morning; some of them partially worm-eaten or blighted, like virgins with an eating sorrow at the heart; others as fair and perfect as Nature's own idea was, when she first imagined this lovely flower. A perfect pond-lily is the most satisfactory of flowers.

At any rate swamp and fenlands in England are always especially rich in gay grasses or gorgeous fungoids; and seem sometimes as glorious as a transformation scene; but also as unsubstantial. In these splendid scenes it is always very easy to put your foot through the scenery. You may sink up to your armpits; but you will sink up to your armpits in flowers.

"Now, mind you," said Blair, "I cannot grant a flower from the basket, for you see it is as much the property of Waters as of myself, for all of his virtuous indignation. It was sent to the room, and he is one of the occupants. The flowers have evidently been misdirected." The lady referred to took it upon herself to purloin the flower she wanted.

"You'll have to learn him to do sewing and housework." It often stung me to anger to listen to these sarcastic remarks, but I am glad that my love for flowers was strong enough to keep me at work among them, for I know that I am a better man to-day than I would have been had I allowed myself to be ridiculed out of my love for them.

"But Monsieur de Mortsauf loves me as much as he is capable of loving; all that his heart contains of affection he pours at my feet, like the Magdalen's cup of ointment. Believe me, a life of love is an exception to the laws of this earth; all flowers fade; great joys and emotions have a morrow of evil if a morrow at all.