"I've heard the places there are pretty."
"Pretty! But this one, Billy;" in her enthusiasm she leaned eagerly forward. "You couldn't imagine it! There are miles and miles. And the whole thing; Claire says the whole year round; it's just one big mass of flowers."
In spite of himself he pulled his arm away from the girl's waist.
"Oh, is it?"
"Billy, I know you don't like flowers. But this! You've never seen anything like this!"
"There're probably lots and lots of places like it, little sister."
"Oh, no!" Her tone was vehement. "There couldn't be. Not such a garden! All rhododendrons and lilies of the valley—; is anything wrong, Billy?"
"Nothing. Those flowers grow in all gardens at this time of the year."
She stared into his blanched face and her brows drew together in a puzzled frown.
"Not like this, Billy. Really. I've never seen such rhododendrons or such lilies. And the violets and roses!"