This latter remark made Miss Schuyler bid Joe wait for her in the hall, while she went to a closet, found a basket, in which she placed a snowy napkin, some biscuit, some cold chicken, and a few delicious little cakes. In her pocket she put a little flask of some strong cordial she had found of service on her many errands of charity.
How proud Joe was to be her escort! but how meekly he walked behind the lady whose footsteps he thought were those of a real gentle
woman, the only one to whom he would accord this compliment, although he passed many elegant dames in gay attire.
The little gray figure, with its neat, quiet simplicity, was his embodiment of elegance, for somehow Joe had detected the delicate perfume of a sweet nature and a loving heart—a heart full of Christian charity and unselfishness.
They walked for some distance, and the day was so warm that Miss Schuyler moderated her usual rapid pace to suit the old man's feebler steps. Off the Avenue a long way, up another, down a side street, until, amid a crowded, disagreeable neighborhood, Joe stopped.
"You had better lead me still, Joe. The boy might be frightened or annoyed at seeing a stranger: I dare say he's nervous. Go up, and I will wait outside the door while you ask him if I may come and see him. Wait, there's a flower-stall a little way from here; I will get a bunch. Take my basket, and I will be back in a few moments. I am glad I thought of the flowers; children always like them."
She hastened off, while Joe leaned on his cane and muttered blessings upon her; but some rude boys beginning to chaff him, he turned on them
with his usual crustiness, and quite forgot his beatitudes.
Miss Schuyler came back in a few minutes with a lovely bunch of bright blossoms embosomed in geranium leaves.
"Now, then, Joe, this shall be my card; take it in, and tell Phil I am coming."