Walter Earle laughed lightly at the careless metaphor.
"Then the path will be rose-strewn, too," he said, "for where there are thorns there are roses."
"Talking of roses," said Violet, "reminds me to ask you, Lina, where are the flowers I told you to wear? You forgot them."
"No, I did not," said the girl. "I must tell you the truth, Violet; I did not have the time to gather a single flower. I was late as it was; for you see Aunt Meredith needed me so long I could scarcely get away. But I thought perhaps you could spare me a flower."
"As many as you like," said Violet, generously. "What will you have? Here we are at the flower-beds. Make your own selection."
"I am afraid of the gardener," laughed Jaquelina, shrinking back from the trim and well-kept flower-beds. "I will take anything you choose to give me."
"Daisies would suit you," said Walter Earle, looking at the sweet, shy face.
"Scarlet geraniums or roses," said Violet, thinking how beautifully they would contrast with the dark eyes and the white dress.
Ronald Valchester studied the drooping face attentively, as the dark eyes gazed at the brilliant flowers, the dark, curling lashes shading the rose-flushed cheek.
"Passion-flowers, I think," he said, and gathered a cluster of the bright flowers from the trellis and offered them to her. She took them with a slight bow, and fastened them in her belt.