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Updated: May 20, 2025
Mama won't mind it in the least." "If you have a new net over-skirt I shall have one too. You're not to have an evening frock more than me. So come! I shall have blue again. Blue tarlatan with white frillings on the flounces. Blue is my colour. Reggie said so to-night." "I suppose he admired you in that wreath of forget-me-nots?" "He didn't say I was to tell you, if he did!
"François and I have been looking all about the town before breakfast and we can't even find a bunch of pansies." Pansies would be a good offset to forget-me-nots; but as only sweet peas and roses were to be found, Archie scorned to bestow these which grow in such abundance, and so contented himself with a beautiful basket of fruit which we all enjoyed.
And now, John Roger Churchill Knight, take me down to see my town. I want to see all the new gardens, the new babies, the new spring hats and dress patterns. "I want to see Ella Higgins' tulips and forget-me-nots and attend Uncle Tony's open-air meeting. I want to have an ice-cream soda at Martin's and wave my hand at John Gans while he's shaving a customer.
"That's it, that's it, like this!" exclaimed the servant in answer as he drew on the ground the figure of a Byzantine cross. "Were there flowers scattered on the grave?" "Oleanders and tuberoses and forget-me-nots, yes!" the servant added joyfully, offering the grave-digger a cigar. "Tell us which is the grave and where the cross is."
The Avon loiters past the church-yard, an exceedingly sluggish river, which might seem to have been considering which way it should flow ever since Shakspeare left off paddling in it and gathering the large forget-me-nots that grow among its flags and water-weeds.
All day long Father had been copying the menu upon the florid cards which he had bought from a bankrupt Jersey City printer thick gilt-edged cards embossed with forget-me-nots in colors which hadn't quite registered. From their upper rooms, in which Mother had arranged the furniture to make the new home resemble their New York flat, the Applebys came happily down-stairs for the sunset.
Far up the creek, a cat-bird, hidden amongst scented basswood blossoms, was singing a gay medley of purest music. On either side the banks were hidden in a luxury of reeds, water-lily leaves, blue forget-me-nots, and gay bobbing lady's-slippers. And between, the winding stream shone pink and gold in the sunrise. Charles Stuart stood watching his lady as she filled her hands with blossoms.
And opening the gate, she ran through the little pathway that hid its stones under rose-bushes. She threw herself into the first carriage she found. The coachman wore forget-me-nots on his hat and on the handle of his whip: "Great Britain Hotel, Lungarno Acciaoli." She knew where that was, Lungarno Acciaoli.
A young man joined them, where the path turns into the thick woodlands; and they disappeared among the shadowy branches. It was the Polish Count. The forget-me-nots looked up to heaven with their meek blue eyes, from their home in the Angel's Meadow.
She came often still, because she had a fancy that the change in her favourite garden was typical of the change in her life, the letting-in of the sunshine, where before there had been only deepest shade; the pinks and forget-me-nots which were gaily blowing, where only moss and fungi had flourished; the blooming of the roses, where the undergrowth had crossed and recrossed withered branches above bare, black soil.
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