“Well, maybe I’ll go over this afternoon. For the present—”
“This afternoon will be too late. The shops close early, you know, on Sunday.”
Arthur issued forth upon his quest for flowers.
What was it that prompted him, after the main purchase had been made, to ask the tradesman, “Now, have you something especially nice, something unique, that would do for a lady’s corsage?” The shopkeeper replied, “Yes, sir, I have something very rare in the line of jasmine. Only a handful in the market. This way, sir.”—Arthur was conducted to the conservatory behind the shop; and there he devoted a full quarter hour of his valuable time to the construction of a very pretty and fragrant bunch of jasmine. What was it that induced this action?
When he got back home and displayed his spoils to Hetzel, the latter said, “And this jasmine—I suppose you intend it for Mrs. Berle to wear, yes?” To which Arthur vouchsafed no response.
They went down stairs at six o’clock. Mrs. Berle was alone in her parlor. They had scarcely more than made their obeisance, however, when the door-bell rang; and presently the rustle of ladies’ gowns became audible in the hallway. Next moment the door opened—and Arthur’s heart began to beat at break-neck speed. Entered, Mrs. Hart and Mrs. Lehmyl.
“I surmised as much, and you knew it all the while,” Arthur gasped in a whisper to Hetzel.
His friend shrugged his shoulders.
The first clamor of greetings being over with, Arthur, his bunch of jasmine held fast in his hand, began, “Mrs. Lehmyl, may I beg of you to accept these little——”
“Oh, aren’t they delicious!” she cried, impulsively.