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Updated: June 7, 2025
She could have looked at him forever, she was so happy; she cared nothing now for those dazzling dahlias he had left them; he was actually here here in her own, little dear home, with the cocks looking in at the threshold, and the sweet-peas nodding at the lattice, and the starling crying, "Bonjour! Bonjour!"
Instantly Edith forgot the dahlias, and plunged into bicycle technicalities, ending with the query, "Why don't you squeeze out some money, and buy one of those cheap little automobiles, Maurice, you mean old thing!" "Can't afford it," Maurice said. But Eleanor was puzzled. There had been a hurried note in Maurice's voice when he asked Edith about her bicycle an imperative changing of the subject!
The battalions went off singing, thrilling with impatience, dahlias in their hats, the muskets adorned with flowers. Discharged soldiers re-enlisted; boys put their names down, their mothers urging them to it; you would have thought they were setting out for the Olympian games.
The boughs in the orchard grew lighter daily. Frost came as Webb had predicted, and dahlias, salvias, and other flowers, that had flamed and glowed till almost the middle of October, turned black in one morning's sun. The butternut-trees had lost their foliage, and countless leaves were fluttering down in every breeze like many-hued gems.
"Show" Dahlias are those with large and very double flowers of a single color, and those in which the ground color is of a lighter shade than the edges or tips of the petals. The outer petals recurve, as the flower develops, until they meet at the stem, thus giving us a ball-like blossom.
The rose is called Maria Leonida, her own name is Maria; and she hopes you will be very happy." I was delighted. To MRS. R. BUTLER. EDGEWORTHSTOWN, Oct. 30, 1847. I hope the hyacinths "Maria Edgeworth" and "Apollo," and all the blues, will not be destroyed in their journey to you. I spent an hour yesterday doing up dahlias for Rosa, who wrote to me from Dublin that she was heart-sick for flowers.
Nan began her pleasures by exploring the flower gardens with Uncle Daniel. "I pride myself on those zinnias," the uncle told Nan, "just see those yellows, and those pinks. Some are as big as dahlias, aren't they?" "They are just beautiful, uncle," Nan replied, in real admiration. "I have always loved zinnias. And they last so long?" "All summer. Then, what do you think of my sweet peas?"
Four or five steps to the left of this bower a clump of shrubbery veils the view from the street and in between shrubs and arbor lies a small pool of water flowers and goldfish. On the arbor's right, in charming privacy, masked by hollyhocks, dahlias and other tall-maidenly things, lie beds of strawberries and lettuce and all the prim ranks and orders of the kitchen garden.
She could see her outdoors among her flowers, the dahlias and touch-me-nots, the four-o'clocks and the cinnamon roses, taking such pride and pleasure in her sweet posy beds. She could see her beside the little table on the shady porch, making tea for some old neighbor who had dropped in to spend the afternoon with her.
He was far from beaten yet. It was a fine September afternoon and Sylvia reclined pensively in a canvas hammock on Herbert Lansing's lawn with one or two opened letters in her hand. Bright sunshine lay upon the grass, but it was pleasantly cool in the shadow of the big copper beech. A neighboring border glowed with autumn flowers: ribands of asters, spikes of crimson gladiolus, ranks of dahlias.
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