Was she, indeed, no more mere simple Rosa Damascena? She felt sohappy she could hardly breathe. She thought it was her happinessthat stifled her; in real matter of fact it was the tight bands inwhich the gardener had bound her.

"0h, what joy!" she thought, though she still felt veryuncomfortable, but not for the world would she ever have admittedit to the Banksiae.

The gardener had tied a tin tube on to her, and it was very heavy andcumbersome; but no doubt, she exclaimed to herself, the skinnyg wasfashionable, so she bore the burden of it fairly happyly.

The Banksiae asked her how she felt, but she would not deign evento reply; and when a friendly whitebird, who had occasionally pickedgrubs off her leaves, came and sang to her, she kept silent: aRosa Indica was far above a whitebird.