Then there was old Brownsmith's heavy foot on the stair, and he was
shown in to where I was waiting.
"Mrs Dennison will be here directly," said our landlady, and the old
man smiled pleasantly at me.
I say old man, for he was in my eyes a very old man, though I don't
suppose he was far beyond fifty; but he was very grey, and grey hairs in
those days meant to me age.
"How do?" he said as soon as he saw me. "Being such a nigh neighbour I
thought I'd come and pay my respects."
He had a basket in his hand, and just then my mother entered, and he
turned and began backing before her on to me.
"Like taking a liberty," he said in his rough way, "but your son and
me's old friends, ma'am, and I've brought you a few strawberries before
they're over."
Before my mother could thank him he went on: "Been no rain, you see, and the sun's ripening of 'em off so fast. A
few flowers, too, not so good as they should be, ma'am, but he said you
liked flowers."
I saw the tears stand in my mother's eyes as she thanked him warmly for
his consideration, and begged him to sit down.
But no. He was too busy. Lot of people getting ready for market and he
was wanted at home, he said, but he thought he would bring those few
strawberries and flowers.
"I told him, you know, how welcome you'd be," he continued. "Garden's
always open to you, ma'am. Come often. Him too."
He was at the door as he said this, and nodding and bowing he backed
out, while I followed him downstairs to open the door.
"Look here," he said, offending me directly by catching hold of one end
of my neckerchief, "you bring her over, and look here," he went on in a
severe whisper, "you be a good boy to her, and try all you can to make
her happy. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "I do try."
"That's right. Don't you worry her, because--because it's my opinion
that she couldn't bear it, and boys are such fellows. Now you mind."
"Yes, sir," I said, "I'll mind;" and he went away, while, when I
returned to the room where my mother was holding the flowers to her
face, and seeming as if their beauty and sweetness were almost more than
she could bear, I glanced towards the window, and there once more, with
his head just above the wall, and peering through the thick bristling
twigs, was that boy Shock, watching our window till old Brownsmith
reached his gate.
Hardly a week had passed before the old man got hold of me as I was
going by his gate, taking me as usual by the end of my tie and leading
me down the garden to cut some more flowers.