"No, Ma'am. It's "
"Mamma, here is a white moss that is beyond everything! with two of the most lovely buds. Oh!" said Constance, clasping her hands, and whirling about the room in comic ecstasy, "I sha'n't survive it if I cannot find out where it is from."
"How delicious the scent of these tea-roses is!" said Fleda.
"You ought not to mind the snow-storm to-day, after this,
Florence. I should think you would be perfectly happy."
"I shall be, if I can contrive to keep them fresh to wear to- night. Mamma, how sweetly they would dress me!"
"They're a great deal too good to be wasted so," said Mrs.
Evelyn; "I sha'n't let you do it."
"Mamma! it wouldn't take any of them at all for my hair, and the bouquet de corsage, too; there'd be thousands left. Well, Joe, what are you waiting for?"
"I didn't say," said Joe, looking a good deal blank and a little afraid "I should have said that the bouquet is "
"What is it?"
"It is I believe, Ma'am the man said it was for Miss
Ringgan."
"For me!" exclaimed Fleda, her cheeks forming instantly the most exquisite commentary on the gift that the giver could have desired. She took in her hand the superb bunch of flowers from which the fingers of Florence unclosed as if it had been an icicle.