you," the Rose said, "but she's redderand her petals are shorter, I think."
"Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia," the Tiger-lily interrupted: "not tumbled about anyhow, like yours."
"But that's not your fault," the Rose added kindly: "you're beginning to fade, you knowand then one can't help one's petals getting a little untidy."
Alice didn't like this idea at all: so, to change the subject, she asked "Does she ever come out here?"
"I daresay you'll see her soon," said the Rose. "She's one of the thorny kind."
"Where does she wear the thorns?" Alice asked with some curiosity.
"Why, all round her head, of course," the Rose replied. "I was wondering you hadn't got some too. I thought it was the regular rule."
"She's coming!" cried the Larkspur. "I hear her footstep, thump, thump, along the gravel-walk!"
