He shook his head, a smile softening the hard lines of his withered countenance and twinkling in his eyes.
"Eat them yourself," he said; "it's many a long year since I had an appetite for sweetmeats. Did your uncle grow those flowers?"
"Yes," she replied. "Wasn't it good of him to cut them for me? Are we far from Haughton, Cousin Robert?"
"No; we shall soon be there. My place is only about five minutes' walk from the station. You have never been to Haughton?"
"No, never."
"It lies in a valley, and the river runs right through the town; in fact, some of the houses are built over the river—mine, for instance. Sometimes, when the tide is high, and there is a quantity of land water, you can hear the water rushing beneath the houses. The fresh water rushes down from the hills and meets the incoming tide, and that causes part of the town to be flooded at certain seasons."
Mousey did not quite comprehend this explanation; and the thought of living in a house built over a river was rather horrifying to her. She looked, as she felt, considerably alarmed. Mr. Harding noted the fact, and hastened to reassure her.
"The floods seldom do much damage," he said. "There's nothing to fear, for my house, though one of the oldest in the town, is one of the strongest. Are you timid, child?"
"I don't know. Yes, I'm afraid I am, but I try not to be. Of course, I know God will take care of me."
A curious expression flickered across the old man's face. He drew down the corners of his mouth, puckered up his forehead, and regarded Mousey gravely.