“ They’re looking at you,” he said, trying to draw his mother away.
“ But what is it?” she exclaimed, refusing to be moved.
“ Stocks!” he answered, sniffing hastily. “Look, there’s a tubful.”
“ So there is—red and white. But really, I never knew stocks to smell like it!” And, to his great relief, she moved out of the doorway, but only to stand in front of the window.
“ Paul!” she cried to him, who was trying to get out of sight of the elegant young lady in black—the shop-girl. “Paul! Just look here!”
He came reluctantly back.
“ Now, just look at that fuchsia!” she exclaimed, pointing.
“ H’m!” He made a curious, interested sound. “You’d think every second as the flowers was going to fall off, they hang so big an’ heavy.”
“ And such an abundance!” she cried.
“ And the way t
