Her hair had blown out in little curls around her face from riding, her cheeks were so pink, and her eyes so bright.
"We were talking about having the ceremony in the church, so every one can be comfortably seated, and see and hear well," answered mother.
Sally straightened up and began jerking the roses on her bonnet far too roughly for artificial flowers.

Perhaps I surprised you with that artificial word, but I can spell and define it; it's easy divided into syllables.

Goodness knows, I have seen enough flowers made from the hair of the dead, wax, and paper, where you get the shape, but the colour never is right.

These of Sally's were much too bright, but they were better than the ones made at our house.

Hers were of cloth and bought at a store.