"My daddy works here, sir," said Hazel timidly.
"Bowker—Bowker!" repeated Mr. Brimberly. "Ah, to be sure—one of the hunder gardeners as I put on three or four weeks ago."
"Yes, please, sir."
"Little girl, what are you a-doin' in that garden? Why are you wandering in the vicinity of this mansion?"
"Please, I'm looking for Hermy."
"'Ermy?" repeated Mr. Brimberly, "'Ermy? Wot kind of creater may that be? Is it a dog? Is it a cat? Wot is it?"
"It's only my Princess Nobody, sir!"
"Oh, a friend of yours—ha! Persons of that class do not pervade these regions! And wot do I be'old grasped in your 'and?"
Hazel looked down at the rose she held and trembled anew.
"Little girl—wot is it?" demanded the inexorable voice.