8o THE AMBITIOUS ROSE-TREE.
Ouvaroff, the Vicomtesse de Cazes all in gold,
Madame de Sombreull in snowy white, the beau¬
tiful Louise de Savole, the exquisite Duchess of
Devoniensis, all the roses that were great ladles
in their own right, and as far off her as were the
stars that hung in heaven. Rosa Damascena would
have given all her brilliant carnation hues to be pale
and yellow like the Princesse Adelaide, or delicately
colourless like her Grace of Devoniensis.
She tried all she could to lose her own warm
blushes, and prayed that bees might sting her and
so change her hues; but the bees were of low taste
and kept their pearl-poAvder and rouge and other pig¬
ments for the use of common flowers, like the evening
primrose or the buttercup and borage, and never came
near to do her any good in arts of toilette.
One day the gardener approached and stood and
looked at her : then all at once she felt a sharp stab
in her from his knife, and a vivid pain ran downward
through her stem.
She did not know it, but gardeners and gods
* this way grant pr-ayer.'
' Has not something happened to me?' she asked
of the little Bankslae ; for she felt very odd all over
her; and when you are unwell you cannot be very
The saucy Bankslae laughed, running over their
wires that they cling to like little children,
' You have got your wish,' they said. ' You are