Gopika said,“Could it be because Lucy, whom he is describing, shunned the limelight? Isn’t the violet associated with modesty?”

“You’re a violet yourself,” said Mrs. Sukumar smiling. “You come out with brilliant answers in a hesitant manner.”

“Go, go Gopika!” said Jatin, as his classmate sat down, blushing. “Ma’am,” he went on, “if we could switch for a moment from literature to language---a violet is aptly named, since violets are usually of a purplish hue, but what of the pansy? That’s much the same colour but its name doesn’t seem to make sense.”

“You’re forgetting the pansy’s dark centres,” said Mrs. Sukumar. “If you look at those fancifully, you’ll see that they give the flower a meditative look. The word ‘pansy’ comes to us from the French word for ‘thoughtful’, the source too of the English ‘pensive’.”

“Now, this is a lot more interesting than someone going on about a long lost girl,” said Jatin. “Doesn’t the heliotrope---also with purplish-blue flowers---have something to do with the sun?”

“Quite right,” said Mrs. Sukumar. “That name comes from the Greek ‘heliotropion’ (sun-turning) because the plant turns towards the sun. You haven’t escaped poetry, Jatin,” she added, “as you’ll find out soon. The wild pansy, whose Latin name is ‘violet-tricolor’ is known as ‘heart’s-ease.’, Mrs. Sukumar read aloud: ‘Like the richest velvet (I’ve heard the fairies tell)/ Grow the handsome pansies within the garden wall;/ When you praise their beauty, remember me as well---/Think of little Heart’s-ease, the brother of them all.’ The writer adds that the heart’s-ease was once known to children as ‘jump up and kiss me’.”

Jatin groaned. “Ma’am,” he pleaded, “no heart’s ease, Wordsworth, please!”