Phil followed the tempter into Mr. Ryan's shop, and then all at once he saw who had been leading him, and what he had been going to do. What was it that opened his eyes so suddenly? Just the sight of Miss Isabel in her pretty gray dress and India striped shawl, the very dress she had worn on Sunday, buying seeds at the counter. Just the sight of her made Phil open the eyes of his conscience and see what he was going to do. What would Miss Isabel think? What would his heavenly Father think?
"Miss Isabel won't know," said the tempter, making a last effort.
"But God will," said Phil, and then the tempter went away for that time.
"Why, Philip, is this you?" said Miss Isabel kindly. "How do you do, and how is you grandmother this fine weather?"
Phil answered her questions, and then yen. Lured to ask one for himself.
"Please, Miss Isabel, what kind of seeds can I buy for five cents that will make sweet-smelling flowers?"
"Why, let me see. You might have mignonette, or sweet alyssum, or sweet peas."
"Is it sweet peas that are so many different colors—pink and white and purple?" asked Phil eagerly.
"The very same. I think you will like them best. Mr. Ryan, how many sweet peas can you afford to give this little boy for five cents?"
"Oh, quite a good handful," said Mr. Ryan, taking a little bag and filling it from a drawer that stood open. "There, that will make you a fine row, and very nice ones they are. Only if you want plenty of new flowers, you must keep cutting the old ones. Flowers mostly, madam, are like the riches of the man in the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' perhaps you remember: