“As regards the therapeutic virtues mentioned by Petrus Cantor,” said the Abbe Plomb, “I may add that the Anonymous English writer of the thirteenth century tells us that the lily is a sovereign remedy for burns, and for this cause is an image of the Virgin, who heals sinners of their burns—­that is to say, of their vices.”

“You may further consult Saint Methodus, Saint Mechtildis, Peter of Capua, and the English monk of whom you spoke, and you will find that the lily is the attribute, not only of the Virgin Mary, but of virginity in general and of all virgins.

“And here is a posy of meanings culled from Saint Eucher, who compares the whiteness of the lily to the purity of the angels; from Saint Gregory the Great, who says its fragrance is like the works of the saints; and again from Raban Maur, who speaks of the lily as emblematic of celestial beatitude, of the beauty of holiness, of the Church, of perfection, of chastity in the flesh.”

“Not to forget that, according to the translation of Origen, the Lily among Thorns is the Church in the midst of its enemies,” the Abbe Plomb put in.

“Then it is Jesus, His Mother, the Angels, the Church, the Virgins, everything at once!” exclaimed Durtal.  “We cannot but wonder how these mystic gardeners could discern so many meanings in one and the same plant!”

“Why, you can see:  the symbolists not only considered the analogies and resemblances they discovered between the form, scent, and colour of a flower and the being with whom they compared it; they also studied the Bible, especially the passages wherein a tree or flower was named, and they then ascribed to it such qualities as were mentioned or could be inferred from the text.  They did the same with regard to animals, colours, gems, everything to which they could attribute a meaning.  It is simple enough.”

“It is complicated enough!” said Durtal.  “And now where was I?”

“In the Lady chapel, planting roses and anemones.  Now add to these a shrub which is the emblem of Mary according to the Anonymous monk of Clairvaux, or of the Incarnation according to the Anonymous writer of Troyes, the walnut, of which the fruit is interpreted in the same sense by the Bishop of Sardis.”

“And also mignonette,” cried Durtal, “for Sister Emmerich speaks of it frequently and with much mystery.  She says that this flower is very dear to Mary, who planted it and made much use of it.

“Then there is another plant which seems to me no less appropriate:  the bracken—­not by reason of the qualities ascribed to it by Saint Hildegarde, but because it symbolizes the most secret and retiring humility.  Take one of the stoutest stems and cut it aslant, like the mouthpiece of a whistle, and you will find very distinctly imprinted in black the form of a heraldic fleur de lys, as if stamped with a hot iron.  The scent being absent, we may here accept it as the symbol of humility—­a humility so perfect that it is undiscoverable but in death.”