"I'm waiting for the tea-bell."
"Five minutes since it rang, and mother and I have been looking out for you ever since."
"Why, Leveson, I never heard it."
"Absent state of mind, I am afraid! Come along, dear."
Josie went in with a rush, and seated herself at the oval table, upon which was a bunch of flowers in a tall white vase, a blue glass snake being twisted round it. At the head of the table sat a lady in a widow's cap, with a very sweet sad face. She had not passed middle life, but trouble had drawn lines upon her brow, and set a stamp of mournful resignation upon the lips.
"Mother, only think, I never heard the bell," said Josie.
"What were you thinking about, I wonder?"
"Ever so many things. Oh, what beauties of flowers. Did Leveson get them for you? Ah, I thought so. Oh, what beauties!"
Josie buried nose and eyes in the bunch, and then sat up to feast the latter on white moss rose-buds, pink tea-roses, fragrant heliotropes, variegated geraniums, and drooping fuchsias, while busied with a slice of bread and butter.
"Are they not lovely, mother? If only we had a garden, and I could have some flowers like those growing."