She had such an exquisite little nosegay in her hand.

“Indeed, I think so, Esther,” replied Caddy. “They are the loveliest I ever saw.”

“Prince, my dear?” said I, in a whisper.

“No,” answered Caddy, shaking her head, and holding them to me to smell. “Not Prince.”

“Well, to be sure, Caddy!” said I. “You must have two lovers!”

“What? Do they look like that sort of thing?” said Caddy.

“Do they look like that sort of thing?” I repeated, pinching her cheek.

Caddy only laughed in return; and telling me that she had come for half-an-hour, at the expiration of which time Prince would be waiting for her at the corner, sat chatting with me and Ada in the window: every now and then, handing me the flowers again, or trying how they looked against my hair. At last, when she was going, she took me into my room and put them in my dress.

“For me?” said I, surprised.

“For you,” said Caddy, with a kiss. “They were left behind by Somebody.”

“Left behind?”

“At poor Miss Flite’s,” said Caddy. “Somebody who has been very good to her, was hurrying away an hour ago, to join a ship, and left these flowers behind. No, no! Don’t take them out. Let the pretty little things lie here!” said Caddy, adjusting them with a careful hand, “because I was present myself, and I shouldn’t wonder if Somebody left them on purpose!”

“Do they look like that sort of thing?” said Ada, coming laughingly behind me, and clasping me merrily round the waist. “O, yes, indeed they do, Dame Durden! They look very, very like that sort of thing. O, very like it indeed, my dear!”