"This Crimson Rambler, Miss, I believe. Look at it; you can just see the colour coming in the bud."
"So I can!"
"Miss Douglas," the old man went on, "do you ever go to see old Mother Hotchkiss?"
"What a name! No, I never heard of her."
"She lives in that old house down the lane; you must have noticed it, surely; two big square windows, almost like shop windows, and lots of nice plants in them."
"Oh yes, I know."
"Well, I wish you'd go and see her; I don't think she's long for this world, and she's as ignorant as a heathen in Africa."
"Poor old thing!"
"Ay! You may well say, 'Poor old thing!' Miss Douglas, she knows nothing. She can neither read nor write, and as for Scripture, why, a baby in yon schools over there knows more about it."
"I'll go and see her, Enoch. Who looks after her?"