And he said--"Why, because they're asleep, to be sure.

Don't you know that flowers sleep as soundly as you do?
_They_ don't lie awake in the dark!" And then he shook with laughing, till he shook the red into his face, and the tears into his eyes, as he always does.
Dr.Brown must know a great deal about flowers, much more than I thought he did; I told him so, and he said, "Didn't think I looked as like a flower sprite as yourself, eh?
'Pon my word, I don't think I'm unlike one of your favourites.

Tall, ye know, big beaming face, eh?
There are people more unlike a Sunflower than Dr.Brown! Ha! ha! ha!" He laughed, he always does; but he told me quite delightful things about flowers: how they sleep, and breathe, and eat, and drink, and catch cold in draughts, and turn faint in the sun, and sometimes are all the better for a change ("like Miss Margery," so he said), and sometimes are home-sick and won't settle ("which I've a notion might be one of your follies, Miss Grace"), and turn pale and sickly in dark corners or stuffy rooms.

But he never knew one that went home at night.
Except for being too big for our chairs and tables, and for going voyages of discovery, I do think Dr.Brown would make a very nice person to play with; he seems to believe in fancy things, and he knows so much, and is so good-natured.

He asked me what flower I thought Jael was like; and when I told him Margery could imitate her exactly, he said he must see that some day.