"Myself!" repeated poor Julia, with quivering lips.
"Go in—go in—I want nothing that should frighten you. Stay—just now I remember that face. Do you know I am an old customer?"
"I remember," answered Julia, and tears of affright rushed into her eyes.
"Then you recognise me again?—it was but a moment—how can you remember so long and so well?"
"By my feelings, sir. I wanted to cry then—I can't help crying now!"
"This is strange! Young ladies are not apt to be so much shocked when I speak to them. No matter. I want both your flowers and your services just now: oblige me, and I will pay you well for the kindness."
Julia had no choice, for as he spoke the gentleman closed the gate, and completely obstructed her way out.
"Pass on—pass on!" he said, with an imperative wave of the hand.
Julia obeyed, walking with nervous quickness as he drew close to her. The gentleman rang, a faint noise came from within, and the door was opened by a quiet old lady in mourning.