Part 2 (2/2)

_The Second Lady_, looking at a length of the jasmine vine which he trails on the counter before her: ”Yes, that is very beautiful; and it is girlish, and like--But no, it wouldn't do! That perfume is heartbreaking! Don't send that!”

_The Florist_, patiently: ”Cypress wine? Smilax?”

_The Second Lady_, shaking her head vaguely: ”Some other flowering vine.”

_The Florist:_ ”Well, we have cot noding in, at present. I coult get you some of that other chasmin--kindt of push, that gifs its berfume after dtark”--

_The Second Lady:_ ”At night? Yes, I know. That might do. But those pale green flowers, that are not like flowers--no, they wouldn't do! I shall have to come back to your Pride roses! Why do they call it Pride?”

_The Florist:_ ”It is Pridte, not Bridte, matam.”

_The Second Lady_, with mystification: ”Oh! Well, let me have a great many of them. Have you plenty?”

_The Florist:_ ”As many as you lige.”

_The Second Lady:_ ”Well, I don't want any of these hard little buds. I want very long stems, and slender, with the flowers fully open, and fragile-looking--something like _her_.” The first lady starts. ”Yes: like this--and this--and this. Be sure you get them all like these. And send them--I will give you the address.” She writes on a piece of the paper before her. ”There, that is it. Here is my card. I want it to go with them.” She turns from the florist with a sigh, and presses her handkerchief to her eyes.

_The Florist:_ ”You want them to go rhighdt away?” He takes up the card, and looks at it absently, and then puts it down, and examines the roses one after another. ”I don't know whether I cot enough of these oben ones on handt, already”--

_The Second Lady:_ ”Oh, you mustn't send them to-day! I forgot. It isn't to be till to-morrow. You must send them in the morning. But I am going out of town to-day, and so I came in to order them now. Be very careful not to send them to-day!”

_The Florist:_ ”All rhighdt. I loog oudt.”

_The Second Lady:_ ”I am so glad you happened to ask me. It has all been so dreadfully sudden, and I am quite bewildered. Let me think if there is anything more!” As she stands with her finger to her lip, the first lady makes a movement as if about to speak, but does not say anything.

”No, there is nothing more, I believe.”

_The Florist_, to the First Lady: ”Was there somet'ing?”

_The First Lady:_ ”No. There is no hurry.”

_The Second Lady_, turning towards her: ”Oh, I beg your pardon! I have been keeping you”--

_The First Lady:_ ”Not at all. I merely returned to--But it isn't of the least consequence. Don't let me hurry you!”

_The Second Lady:_ ”Oh, I have quite finished, I believe. But I can hardly realize anything, and I was afraid of going away and forgetting something, for I am on my way to the station. My husband is very ill, and I am going South with him; and this has been so sudden, so terribly unexpected. The only daughter of a friend”--

_The First Lady:_ ”The only”--

_The Second Lady:_ ”Yes, it is too much! But perhaps you have come--I ought to have thought of it; you may have come on the same kind of sad errand yourself; you will know how to excuse”--

_The First Lady_, with a certain resentment: ”Not at all! I was just ordering some flowers for a reception.”

_The Second Lady:_ ”Oh! Then I beg your pardon! But there seems nothing else in the world but--death. I am very sorry. I beg your pardon!” She hastens out of the shop, and the first lady remains, looking a moment at the door after she has vanished. Then she goes slowly to the counter.

_The Lady_, severely: ”Mr. Eichenlaub, I have changed my mind about the roses and the smilax. I will not have either. I want you to send me all of that jasmine vine that you can get. I will have my whole decorations of that. I wonder I didn't think of that before. Mr. Eichenlaub!” She hesitates. ”Who was that lady?”

_The Florist_, looking about among the loose papers before him: ”Why, I dton't know. I cot her cart here, somewhere.”

<script>