"I shall have to give them back to you, I'm afraid."
"You've got money, plenty."
"But I can't spend it for plants."
"Because you are going to throw it into the mud, Pink? O no, you'll not do that. I'll give you a catalogue of plants, and you shall look it over; and you will find a dollar won't do much, I can tell you. And then you will see what you want."
He was as good as his word; and Matilda sipped her glass of water and eat her sponge cake at tea time between the pages of a fascinating pamphlet, which with the delights it offered almost took away her breath, and quite took away the taste of the sponge cake. Norton looked over her shoulder now and then, well pleased to see his charm working.
"Yellow carnations?" cried Matilda.
"I don't like them best, though," said Norton. "There, that—La purité—that's fine; and the striped ones, Pink; those double heads, just as full as they can be, and just as sweet as they can be, and brilliant carmine and white—those are what I like."
Matilda drew a long breath and turned a leaf.
"Violets!" she exclaimed.
"Do you like them?"