“The daffodils show his regard; the ferns, his sincerity; and the violets, his extreme modesty,” they said, with giggling laughter, betraying the tension of nerves still animating them. They were agog with expectation, and when told of the projected visit to the peerless gardens they entered into the arrangement with all the zest and abandon of curious girlhood.
“From the roses on thy cheeks, I am justified in the inference that troops of good entities have guarded thy slumbers,” said Orondo, when the women came into the vestibule where he was awaiting them.
“I can only hope that the same blessed oblivion has been thy portion,” responded Kerœcia.
“Rahula, Ildiko and Alcamayn join us at the sun-dial, presently. They are intent upon a natal observance which, by thy leave we shall witness.”
Palanquins were their mode of conveyance.
“Alcyesta, Suravia and Mineola, look at the answer to our signals of last night,” exclaimed Kerœcia. “Oh! see the rose garlands on the obelisks, and the beautiful flowers everywhere!”
As she said this, a delegation of school children strewed her pathway with wall-flowers.
“Fidelity in adversity! How considerate and kind thou art!”
She begged to be set down and stood with her hands full of the blossoms, which she repeatedly carried to her lips, tossing them to the children about her. It was an indiscriminate mass of little ones, augmented by a bevy of older girls, laden with myrrh, wheat, oats and sprigs of heliotrope. Before Kerœcia realized it, her vacant chair was filled with flowering sage and Sweet William in bloom.
This language of esteem and gallantry was a tribute from some warrior priests sent to keep order and to assist in escort duty. Kerœcia and her companions wound the flower-wreaths in their hair, placed clusters of the same at their throats, and in their girdles, and carried as many more as their hands could hold.