"I can smell mignonnette," said Mary.
"I can smell the stocks," said Jack.
"And I can smell the honeysuckle," said Annie.
"Do, grandmamma, let us walk round the garden, to smell the flowers," said all the children; "the gravel is almost dry."
"Very well, you may go; but don't go on the grass—keep to the path."
Jack was off at a bound, and his sisters were not much behind; and they visited flower after flower, sniffing their sweet perfumes. The tall white lilies gave out so strong a scent that, sweet as it was, they did not care to bend them down to their faces; but the roses, after the rain, were so delicious that they did not want to let them go. They found, however, that it was not the large showy roses which had the sweetest smell.
They went to the arch along which the honeysuckle was growing, and then they smelled the rich carnations and the fragrant mignonnette.
Grandmamma called to them not to stay out too long; but they said, "May we pick you a little nosegay first? the flowers are just lovely."
"Very well," grandmamma said; "but don't let it be too large."
It really was difficult to know what to leave out when all was so sweet; but they thought mignonnette, a half-blown moss rose, some sweet-peas, a piece of honeysuckle and of white jasmine, some pinks, and a little stock, could not fail to be agreeable. They thought more of what would smell sweet than of bright colour; and grandmamma was well pleased with her nosegay.