"Really, Jennie, this is more like an evening in June than September. Why one seems to think there must surely be some of the roses around."
"And so there are, my dear," said Jennie Montgomery, taking Helen Rushton by the arm and pointing to a small flower stand whereon sat a fragrant rose bush crowned with tea roses.
"They are indeed magnificent, Jennie, but I meant the little June roses that made such a gorgeous sight the morning that Madge and I arrived sans ceremonie."
"You prefer wild flowers to the more brilliant sisterhood of the hothouse, Miss Rushton," exclaimed Mr. Lawson with an air of interest.
"I must confess that I do Mr. Lawson, they seem so natural, so pure and so unaffected. They are always associated with life as it should be, and not as it is."
"Helen you are a darling," cried Jennie Montgomery, "those are just my ideas too. How is it possible that a refined city girl can foster such sentiments when surrounded by such opposite and antagonistic elements."
"Jennie, my dear, you must not infer from this that I do not approve of the forms and usages of society, for I do, but my society is common sense society, if I may be allowed the expression."
"You are quite right, Miss Rushton. Halifax will never lose her prestige while she sends out women gifted with such ideas of true worth."
Helen slightly changed color but felt no embarrassment.
Mr. Lawson had listened to her clearly advanced views and was pleased with the style she argued and his last remark he considered as no flattery.