Here it was, your favorite season of the year. The sun finally shone through the windows, and the birds were finally out, singing all day long. Another debutante season had started, and couples were slowly flourishing, just like trees and blossoming landscapes. And, to your greatest surprise, you had met just a few evenings ago a charming man, though reserved. He was a great listener, letting you talk for hours if you would try to, staying there and not daring to interrupt. How sweet, right ?

It had remained discussions on social events, but you remained hopeful. He didn’t seem to be a too flirtatious and charming boy, like the ones whose noses will end up being stuck under a lady’s skirt one day. But today, as your family’s house was slowly waking up, the maid brought on the breakfast table a large colorful bouquet, carefully wrapped, with a little card with your name in a messy writing. Everyone was suddenly more joyful, especially for you. Finally, Simon became slightly bolder.

As you stood up to admire the bouquet, the maid looked at you, hesitating, and said in a little voice. “Miss, there are a dozen like these on the porch… Should I bring them in ?” Your mother agreed, and a couple minutes later, the breakfast table was covered in flowers of all colors, of all kinds. You knew how sweet Simon was, but one detail was particular about him : he owned lands and fields of blossoming flowers, instead of corn and wheat. Enthusiastic, your mother kept a wide smile on her face, and said gently. “Sweetie, you should send him something back, or do anything, to show him how much you liked the gesture.”