"What is that you are saying, you flatterer?" asked the charming Rosina, shaking her fan at him in a pleasingly threatening manner. "I--I--I was saying, no, thinking--ah--of--now, positively, do you know--ah--of plucking--" "What! thinking of plucking the only rose in the house! Would you be _so_ cruel? O you naughty, naughty man!" And Miss Criggles gave a look at Mr. Basher that made his knees knock together, and his toes tingle in his patent-leather pumps. "I mean--ah--if I--ah--dared to--" "Oh! you men are so _very_ daring. We poor ladies are so timid and so trusting, Mr. Basher. When people ask _me_ for anything, do you know, I do not even dare to refuse them? Pa is always saying: Rosina, you should be more daring, more repelling. But I cannot, Mr. Basher. It's not in my nature." {130} "Then I ask you," exclaimed Mr. Basher, making a bold venture, and getting ready to drop on his knees at the end of his request, "to give me the--the--Rose of the Garden--" Mr. Basher stopped to take breath and muster courage. "The only rose!" broke in Miss Criggles. "Think of it!" she continued, in a voice of tender complaint, addressed to the lilies and geraniums around, and which made Mr. Basher feel very uncomfortable, "he has the heart to ask me for my one precious rose. He knows, cruel man, that I have not the heart, that it is not in my timid, trusting nature to refuse him." And with that she broke the flower from its stem and handed it to Mr. Basher, who was a second time preparing to throw himself into an attitude and finish the sentence Miss Criggles had so hastily interrupted. It is possible that Mr. Basher would never have been called upon to make the sacrifice he did, had not the attention of both been arrested by a loud "Ahem!" Turning suddenly at the sound, they beheld the tall, gaunt figure of Colonel Dolickem standing bolt upright, sentry-wise, in the doorway of the conservatory. He had witnessed the plucking of the rose, and his soul was all aflame with anger. His astonishment at what he saw was so great that it made him speechless. Had he not come himself to the conservatory, as soon as he could disengage himself from that fat, voluble Mrs. Boggles, to meet Miss Criggles, whom he had seen entering there, and do what this birthday party was given on purpose for him to do? Of course. Had not Miss Criggles herself entered the conservatory for the same purpose, speaking to him, Colonel Dolickem, in passing, that his attention might be called to that fact? Of course, again. Was he brought there on purpose to be a witness to this rose-giving, this toying, and coying, and moying with a--with a--individual such as he now saw before him in the person of a--of a--Basher! Of course, once more. But, choking with rage, the colonel could not utter a word of these reflections, and, turning upon his heel, reentered the crowded parlor. Just then certain sounds came to the ears of Miss Criggles, which that lady rightly interpreted to mean supper.