Madame Glumeau, paying no heed to the lamentations of her daughter, who did not want the rosebush, but did not know what she did want, ordered her messenger to take the flower, then turned to her son and said:
“Now, Astianax, you are the only one who has not chosen a flower, but I believe you told me that you preferred to give your father a bouquet to carry in the hand.”
“Yes, dear mamma, because in a bouquet for the hand, you choose different flowers, which have even more meaning when placed side by side. The Turks call that a selam; I mean to give my father a selam.”
“But in what connection? Your father never has claimed to be a Turk, so far as I know! He won’t have any idea what your bouquet means.”
“I beg your pardon, dear mamma, I will explain the allusion to him.”
“All right, but make haste; it seems to me that you might very well have selected your oriental bouquet while we were choosing our plants!”
“I’ve been looking, but haven’t found what I want!”
“But there certainly is no lack of flower girls here. Ah! there is one who is very pretty indeed; if her bouquets resemble her, I think that you will find what you want.”
II
VIOLETTE
Madame Glumeau had said nothing beyond the truth, when she observed that the flower girl to whom she pointed was very pretty, for she was speaking of Violette.