A look of grievous disappointment came into Philip's face. His voice trembled.
"But please, ma'am," he said, "you've had some hollyhocks in the window and somebody's bought 'em and now you've got some more hollyhocks!"
"Gracious! what can the young man want! We ain't got no hollyhocks! Just show me what you mean!"
Philip approached the lattice-work which separated the shop from the shop window. He pointed to the vase where his hollyhocks bloomed rich and desirable.
"One of those hollyhocks, please!" he said.
"Hollyhocks!" she snorted. "Hollyhocks! Haw, haw, haw! Lawks! Them's chrysanthemums! Haw, haw, haw!"
Philip's disappointment deepened. It was the glamour of the word no less than the actual flower that had drawn his feet to pilgrimage. But Madame Smythe had lifted the vase of chrysanthemums from the window.
"One, did you say?" she inquired, resuming business.
"Yes, one, please!" he assented, with trepidation.
"Here you are, sir, thank you!"