"Where did the flowers come from, Prissy?" asked Aaron when Rachel was out of hearing.
"From the flowerman, sir," she answered. "They cost next to nothing, and they're paid for."
"But, Prissy----"
"Please don't, sir," she interrupted, and there were tears in her eyes and a pleading rebellion in her voice. "I know what you're going to say, Mr. Cohen, but please don't. You'd like me to keep good, wouldn't you, sir?"
"Why, of course, Prissy," said Aaron, astonished at the question.
"I can't keep good, sir, if you blow me up now you're in misfortune; I can't keep good if you don't let me have my way in little things. I'll be very careful, I will, indeed, Mr. Cohen. It's the first time in my life I've bought any flowers at all--and did you see, sir, how happy missus looked when she came in?"
Thus inconsequentially Prissy, mixing her arguments in the strangest manner.
"But, my good girl," said Aaron kindly, "you have no business to waste your money; you must think of your future."
"It's what I am thinking of, sir; I don't want to grow wicked, and flowers are the only things that will prevent me. Mr. Cohen, if it hadn't been for you I shouldn't have been no good at all. I don't forget the first night I come to you with Victoria Regina in Gosport; if I lived to be as old as Methusalem I couldn't never forget it. And then when missus got me the gillard water to bathe my eyes--I should be the ungratefullest woman that ever drew breath if I could forget those things. Do, please, sir, let me have my way. You've paid me a lot more wages than I was worth, and all my money is in the
Post-office Savings Bank, and it aint mine at all, it's yours----"
"My good Prissy," said Aaron, much affected, for Prissy could not continue, her voice was so full of tears, "do as you wish, but be very careful, as you have promised. Perhaps fortune will turn again, and then----"