Not the preferred sort of rose

     Lord Emsworth's niece was the third prettiest girl in Shropshire. In her general appearance she resembled a dewy rose, and it might have been thought that Lord Emsworth, who yielded to no one in his appreciation of roses, would have felt his heart leap at the sight of her.
     This was not the case. His heart did leap, but not up. He was a man with certain definite views about roses. He preferred them without quite such tight lips and determined chins. And he did not like them to look at him as if he were something slimy and horrible which they had found under a flat stone.

(from Lord Emsworth and Others, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)