"Yes, sir," the man replied, with some embarrassment in his voice.
"Well, I want it picked to-morrow for my mother's funeral. You will bring it to my room."
"Oh, sir," I heard the man hurriedly interpose, "I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir; but it has already been picked, and there won't be another out before next week."
I knew I ought not to stay there and listen, especially as I could easily have gone on my way without attracting attention; but having heard thus much, I found it impossible to go on till I had at least learned if Mr. Pollard had the motive I suspected in these inquiries of his. His next words satisfied me on this point.
"And who was the fortunate one to obtain this flower?" he asked, in an accent indifferent enough to deceive a merely casual listener.
"Mr. Guy, sir."
"Ah, so he noticed it too!" was the remark with which Mr. Pollard dropped the subject, and hurried away from the gardener's side.
The next instant I perceived him pass into Guy's room, and I saw that an explanation of some kind was about to take place between the brothers.