(1931)  Page(s) 124.  
 
Self-portrait in Flowers   
I met Mr. Francis E. Lester.   That was a happy memory to take from Monterey.   He is the chairman of the “Committee on Old Roses” of the Pacific regional rose conference.   A small man with a shrewd, kind face that suddenly grew remote and sensitive at the word “Penrith”.   (I had been lecturing there a few days before I sailed for New York, and the name cropped up.)   He comes from the Lake District, so the name made him homesick.   Mr. Lester is a very interesting rosarian - he grows ecae and many other species:  pteracantha, moyesii, and so on.   I had a moment of fun when he was very much confused.   He had not, I think,  caught my name.   Anyway, we came in time to a place where copper-bronze shoots were thick with bud.   “Marion Cran,  a new rose raised by Samuel McGredy,” he said briefly.   I walked beside him a step or two and then said,  “Do you like me?”  His dismayed bewilderment at this searching thrust was exquisite.   He faltered in his strike, glanced at me timidly, rallied his forces, and said with gallantry,  “Very much.”  I was enjoying myself.