“Take up with whom?” she said.
“That consated bit of a colleen, Susy Carter. You’re goin’ to marry her brother. Seems to me you’re throwing yourself away. Why, honey, you’re illigant enough and handsome enough to be any man’s chice.”
“Yes, but I love Nat,” interrupted Jill. “I’m not marrying Susy—I don’t much care for Susy. Yes, ma’am? These bunches are twopence each, these a penny. I’ll give you this bunch of poppies for sixpence, ma’am, and put some green with it.”
A lady who had just come up from the Underground Railway had stopped, arrested by the beauty of Jill’s flowers. She was holding a prettily dressed little girl of about six years old by the hand.
The child was all in white. She had cloudy golden hair falling over her shoulders, her round pink and white face resembled a daisy in its freshness.
The lady was in deep mourning; the expression of her slightly worn face was sad.
“Shall I put the poppies up for you, ma’am?” repeated Jill.
“Yes. I will give you sixpence for that bunch, but be sure you let me have some green with it.”
“I want to spend my penny on flowers, mother,” said the child.
“Well, darling, choose. This nice flower girl will give you a pretty posy for a penny.”