These leaves were so tightly pressed together that they seemed to blend and form a mat or cluster of rosettes.

Here and there from this green ground rose pure white stars edged with a line of gold, and from their throats came crimson anthers but no pistils.

A fragrance, blended of roses and of orange blossoms, yet ethereal and fugitive, gave something as it were celestial to that mysterious flower, which Seraphitus sadly contemplated, as though it uttered plaintive thoughts which he alone could understand.

But to Minna this mysterious phenomenon seemed a mere caprice of nature giving to stone the freshness, softness, and perfume of plants.
"Why do you call it matchless?
can it not reproduce itself ?" she asked, looking at Seraphitus, who colored and turned away.
"Let us sit down," he said presently; "look below you, Minna.

See! At this height you will have no fear.