"What do you think," she
asked, "since you're in this mood of exasperated veracity--or
pretend to be--of the flower charity?"
"Do you mean by the barrel, or the single sack? The Graham, or the
best Haxall, or the health-food cold-blast?" asked Sewell.
Miss Vane lost her power of answering in another peal of laughter,
sobering off, and breaking down again before she could say, "I mean
cut flowers for patients and prisoners."
"Oh, that kind! I don't think a single pansy would have an
appreciable effect upon a burglar; perhaps a bunch of forget-me-nots
might, or a few lilies of the valley carelessly arranged. As to the
influence of a graceful little _boutonniere_, in cases of
rheumatism or cholera morbus, it might be efficacious but I can't
really say."
"How perfectly cynical!" cried Miss Vane. "Don't you know how much
good the flower mission has accomplished among the deserving poor?
Hundreds of bouquets are distributed every day. They prevent crime."
"That shows how susceptible the deserving poor are. I don't find
that a bowl of the most expensive and delicate roses in the centre
of a dinner-table tempers the asperity of the conversation when it
turns upon the absent. But perhaps it oughtn't to do so."
"I don't know about that," said Miss Vane; "but if you had an
impulsive niece to supply with food for the imagination, you would
be very glad of anything that seemed to combine practical piety and
picturesque effect.
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