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 "Can your city greenhouses surpass them?" she asked. Ammon sat on a log to examine the blooms. "They are superb!" he said. "I never saw such length of stem or such rank leaves, while the flowers are the deepest blue, the truest violet I ever saw growing wild. They are coloured exactly like the eyes of the girl I am going to marry." Elnora handed him several others to add to those he held. "She must have wonderful eyes," she commented. "No other blue eyes are quite so beautiful," he said. "In fact, she is altogether lovely." "It is customary for a man to think the girl he is going to marry lovely. I wonder if I should find her so." "You would," said Ammon. "No one ever fails to. She is tall as you, very slender, but perfectly rounded; you know about her eyes; her hair is black and wavy—while her complexion is clear and flushed with red." Elnora knelt among the flowers as she looked at him.

"Why, she must be the most beautiful girl in the whole world!" she cried. Ammon laughed. "No, indeed!" he said. "She is not a particle better looking in her way than you are in yours. She is a type of dark beauty, but you are just as perfect. She is unusual in her combination of black hair and violet eyes, although every one thinks them black at a little distance. You are quite as unusual with your fair face, black brows and brown hair; indeed, I know many people who would