216 THE RANUNCULUS. 



all suspicious readers : for I had a tale in reserve, 

 a nioat loiiching story, concerning one whom I 

 must have identified wilh the Passion-flower ; as I 

 have done so for years, owing to an incident where 

 that flower led to singular results. I find that 

 Hervey has expatiated upon it too largely, to leave 

 me any thing to say: and in another instance, 

 where the Sensitive plant was the type, I read 

 with surprise, almost consternation, what I had 

 supposed to be my own exclusive cogitations as 

 yet uncommitted to paper. This has straitened 

 me a little, in my floral biography : but I am not 

 daunted ; and the slight mortification arising from 

 being denounced as a plagiarist, is most abundant- 

 ly overpaid by the acquisition of so sweet a com- 

 panion for my flower garden, as I have discovered 

 in Hervey. 



Gaily, indeed, is that spot now decked with the 

 bright children of May : but I am inclined, before 

 proceeding in the survey, to enlarge on an event 

 which occurred when I was quite a little girl, and 

 which left a lasting impression on my mind. I 

 was straying in the garden, searching for some 

 polyanthus, and other dwarf flowers, to select a 

 small bouquet ; when, in the midst of my opera- 

 tions, I found myself suddenly attacked, in a most 

 extraordinary manner. The bed where I was 

 groping for flowers had, from neglect, become 

 much encumbered by weeds, and in reaching at a 



