Seeing, however, that Mrs. Crook's own mind and heart were entirely filled by Mrs. Crook herself, it was perhaps as well that she should not occupy too much of the attention and affection of her neighbours.
It is a poor narrow heart, and a small mind, that find Self enough to fill them; but these sorts are not unknown, and Mrs. Crook's were a sample of such.
When she spoke of having been left "comfortable" by her deceased partner, there was a look of triumph and satisfaction on her face, and a "No thanks to any of you" kind of tone in her voice, that must have jarred on the ear of a listener.
No one ever saw a tear in Mrs. Crook's eye, or heard an expression of regret for the loss of "Crook" himself. He had been dead, and out of sight and mind almost, these ten years past. He was merely remembered as having done his duty in leaving his widow "comfortable." People were left to speculate as they chose about the amount represented by the expression. It would not have been good for the man or woman who had ventured to ask a direct question on the subject, but everybody agreed that Mrs. Crook must have something handsome. Surely "comfortable" means free from care, both as regards to-day and to-morrow: not only enough, but a little more, or else anxiety might step in and spoil comfort.
If Mrs. Crook had more than enough, she took care not to give of her abundance. Neither man, woman, nor child was ever the better for the surplus, if such there were. One of her favourite expressions was, "I don't care for much neighbouring; I prefer keeping myself to myself."
"And you keep everything else to yourself," muttered one who had vainly tried to enlist her sympathy for another who was in sickness and trouble.
Mrs. Crook had a pretty garden, well stocked with flowers according to the season. She was fond of working in it, and might be seen there daily, with her sun-bonnet on, snipping, tying and tending her plants.
Children do so love flowers, and, thank God, those who live in country places have grand gardens to roam in, free to all, and planted by His own loving hand. But in town it is different, and Mrs. Crook lived just outside one, far enough away from its smoke to allow of successful gardening, not too far to prevent little feet from wandering thither from narrow courts and alleys, to breathe the purer air, and gaze with longing eyes at the fair blossoms.
It always irritated Mrs. Crook to see these dirty, unkempt little creatures clustering round her gate or peeping through her hedge.
"What do you want here?" she would ask, sharply. "Get away with you, or I will send for a policeman. You are peeping about to see if you can pick up something; I know you are. Be off, without any more telling!"