‘Now I jes’ tell you what, Mas’ Gotham,’ said Dingee, ’you ain’t up to de situation.  Pears like de whole countryside after my young mistis!’

Gotham gave a grunt in unsuccessful imitation of his master’s growl.

‘H’after’er,’ he said.  ’Looks more as if she was h’after them—­ wanting fourteen dresses at once.’

Dingee shewed his teeth from ear to ear.

‘You bery wise man, Mas’ Gotham!’ he said. ’ ’Spect now you can tell a feller all about dese yere.’  And Dingee threw off the white paper which covered what he carried this time, and displayed to Gotham’s astonished eyes a basket full of bouquets.

’ ’Spect now dese yere growed in Missee Hazel’s own greenhouse,’ he said, tauntingly, ‘seein’ she ain’t got none!  Shouldn’t wonder if dey started up spontanous like, arter de shower.  How you tink, Mas’ Gotham, hey?’

But Gotham was virtuously indignant.

’Miss ‘Azel’ll get her head worse turned than it h’is now,’ he said.

‘Heads does turn, fact,’ said Dingee, shaking his own.  ‘Jes’ you watch ’em when de horseback gen’lemen dey goes by, Mas’ Gotham, and you’ll see de heads turn!’

But Gotham had watched enough already to know there was no mistake about that.

‘Well,’ he said, ’since h’it’s ’ere, h’it’s ’ere, and ’ll ’ave to stay, no doubt.  I’ll take it to the library.’

‘Cotch him first!’ said Dingee, moving a little out of reach.  ‘Where Missee Hazel?’

’Prinking ‘erself h’up,’ answered Gotham severely.

‘Gotham telling fibs!’ said the young lady in question, coming up behind him with her light tread.  ’Perhaps he had better take himself to the library, and report to Mr. Falkirk.  What do you want of me, Dingee?  I thought everything was here.’

Dingee had adroitly covered his basket again, but now he drew near and displayed his treasure, adding messages of a somewhat adorned nature, while Wych Hazel read the cards attached to the bouquets.  Gotham, standing a little off, looked on indignant as before, and frowned at the flowers and the flushing cheeks drooped over them, as if he had been Mr. Falkirk himself.  But when Hazel caught up the basket and ran off to her little corner room, then Gotham did betake himself to the library, though without quite the report suggested.

‘Beg pardon, sir,’ he said; ’Miss ’Azel ’ave just received a bushel of flowers, sir,—­if you choose to be h’aware, sir.’

‘A what, Gotham?’ said the astonished Mr. Falkirk.

’No person of discretion to detain them at the ’ouse, sir, and so of course they followed Miss ’Azel down ’ere, sir.  Boukets enough to last a h’ordinary person all summer, sir.  And cards.  And ribbands,’—­concluded Gotham, beginning to clear the table for tea.

’Look here, Gotham,’—­said Mr. Falkirk, from his sofa, whence his eyes followed his serving-man about.

‘Yes, sir!’ said Gotham, erect and motionless.