"Yes, heaps of them. I'll bring them in. Anything else?"
"Not today," said Jessamine, with a wistful glance at the honeysuckle.
Mr. Bell, junior, saw it. In an instant the honeysuckle was unpinned and handed to her. "If you like posies, you're welcome to this. I guess you're fond of flowers," he added, as he noted the flash of delight that passed over her pale face.
"Yes, indeed; they put me so in mind of home—of the country. Oh, how sweet this is!"
"You're country-bred, then? Been in the city long?"
"Since last fall. I was born and brought up in the country. I wish I was back. I can't get over being homesick. This honeysuckle seems to bring it right back. We had honeysuckles around our porch at home."
"You don't like the city, then?"
"Oh, no. I sometimes feel as if I should smother here. I shall never feel at home, I am afraid."
"Where did you live before you came here?"
"Up at Middleton. It was an old-fashioned place, but pretty—our house was covered with vines, and there were trees all about it, and great green fields beyond. But I don't know what makes me tell you this. I forgot I was talking to a stranger."