That good woman had long retired to rest, but Flower’s peremptory summons on the door soon caused a night-capped head to protrude out of a window, a burst of astonishment to issue from a wonder-struck pair of lips, and a moment later the young lady was standing by Mrs. Ricketts’ fireside.
“I’m proud to see you, Miss, and that I will say. Set down, Miss, do now, and I’ll light up the fire in a twinkling.”
“No, you needn’t,” said Flower. “I’m hot; I’m burning. Feel me; a fire would drive me wild.”
“To be sure, so you are, all in a fever like,” said Mrs. Ricketts, laying her rough hand for a moment on Flower’s dainty arm. “You’ll let me light up the bit of a paraffin lamp, then, Miss, for it ain’t often as I have the chance of seeing a young lady come all the way from Australy.”
“You can light the lamp, if you like,” said Flower. “And you can stare at me as much as you please. I’m just like any one else, only wickeder. I’ve come to you, Mrs. Ricketts, because you’re Maggie’s mother, and Maggie’s a good girl, and I thought perhaps you would help me.”
“I’m obligated for the words of praise about my daughter, Miss. Yes, she don’t mean bad, Maggie don’t. What can I do to help you, Miss? Anything in my power you are kindly welcome to.”
“Have you ever seen a diamond, Mrs. Ricketts?”
“I don’t know, I’m sure, Miss.”
“Diamonds are very valuable stones, you know.”
“Maybe, Miss. They ain’t in my way. I wish you’d let me light you a bit of fire, Miss Flower. You’ll have the chills presently, Miss, for you’re all of a burning fever now.”