I assure you I esteem it an inestimable privilege." "You love flowers, then ?" "O yes, passionately.

I have almost an idolatrous love for them." "And does it not make you sad to see them wither away, in spite of your passionate love ?" "Yes, but others bloom in their stead.

'T is but a change from blossom to blossom." "You deceive yourself," he said, and there was something chilling in his tone, "it is not love you feel for them, for that is unchangeable, and admits but one object." "I was not speaking of human love," I answered, busily arranging the flowers in their vases, in which I had already placed some icy cold water.

He walked up and down the room, stopping occasionally to observe the process, and making some passing remark.

I was astonished at finding myself so much at ease.