her mind, 'There's another little girl in the garden, somewhere!'

'Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,' the Rose said,
'but she's redder--and 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 know--and 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, thump, along the gravel-walk!'

Alice looked round eagerly, and found that it was the Red
Queen. 'She's grown a good deal!' was her first remark. She had