"Aunt, I do think you have the most horrid, disgusting set of hymns, all about worms, and dust, and such things!"
"It's my duty, child, when I see you so much taken up with such sinful finery."
"Why, aunt, do you think artificial flowers are sinful?"
"Yes, dear; they are a sinful waste of time and money, and take off our mind from more important things."
"Well, aunt, then what did the Lord make sweet peas, and roses, and orange-blossoms for? I'm sure it's only doing as he does, to make flowers. He don't make everything gray, or stone-color. Now, if you only would come out in the garden, this morning, and see the oleanders, and the crape myrtle, and the pinks, the roses, and the tulips, and the hyacinths, I'm sure it would do you good."
"Oh, I should certainly catch cold, child, if I went out doors. Milly left a crack opened in the window, last night, and I've sneezed three or four times since. It will never do for me to go out in the garden; the feeling of the ground striking up through my shoes is very unhealthy."
"Well, at any rate, aunt, I should think, if the Lord didn't wish us to wear roses and jessamines, he would not have made them. And it is the most natural thing in the world to want to wear flowers."
"It only feeds vanity and a love of display, my dear."
"I don't think it's vanity, or a love of display. I should want to dress prettily, if I were the only person in the world. I love pretty things because they are pretty. I like to wear them because they make me look pretty."