"Collins will have it a jungermania," said she.
"And Collins is right," said I, not trusting myself with the pronunciation of the awful word her ladyship uttered.
Collins looked ridiculously happy.
"Now that is so delightful," said Lady Callonby, as she stopped to look for another puzzle.
"What a wretch it is," said Lady Catherine, covering her face with a handkerchief.
"What a beautiful little flower," said Lady Jane, lifting up the bell of a "lobelia splendens."
"You know, of course," said I, "what they call that flower in France—L'amour tendre."
"Indeed!"
"True, I assure you; may I present you with this sprig of it," cutting off a small twig, and presenting it at the same instant unseen by the others.
She hesitated for an instant, and then extending her fair and taper hand took it. I dared not look at her as she did so, but a proud swelling triumph at my heart nearly choked me.