Christie fell to work with a woman's interest in such a pleasant
task, and soon tied and twisted skilfully, exercising all her taste
in contrasts, and the pretty little conceits flower-lovers can
produce. She was so interested that presently she began to hum half
unconsciously, as she was apt to do when happily employed:
"Welcome, maids of honor,
You do bring
In the spring,
And wait upon her.
She has virgins many,
Fresh and fair,
Yet you are
More sweet than any."
There she stopped, for David's step drew near, and she remembered
where she was.
"The last verse is the best in that little poem. Have you forgotten
it?" he said, pleased and surprised to find the new-comer singing
Herrick's lines "To Violets." "Almost; rny father used to say that
when we went looking for early violets, and these lovely ones
reminded me of it," explained Christie, rather abashed.
DAVID AND CHRISTIE IN THE GREENHOUSE.
As if to put her at ease David added, as he laid another handful of
double-violets on the table:
"'Y' are the maiden posies,
And so graced,
To be placed
Fore damask roses.
Yet, though thus respected,
By and by
Ye do lie,
Poor girls, neglected.
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