ake fer the whole bloomin' caravan?'
he says, 'for ter send ter a lidy?' 'Gentleman,' I says, 'I'm only a
poor girl and a widered muver ter keep, and, gentleman, I can't tike
less than two pound fer 'em sure and certain as there's a God in 'eaven,
I can't.' 'Well,' says he, 'it's a blarsted swindle but I'll take
'em--and mind you deliver 'em ter the lidy yerself.' 'They shall go this
very minute,' says I, 'and, oh, sir, God bless you both and may yer have
long life and 'appiness ter-gether.' Strike me dead, wot d'yer think he
said next? Why he arst me fer my bloomin' name, same as if I wus a
Countess a steepin' art of a moter-kar at the door of Buckingem Peliss.
'What's yer name, girl?' says 'e. 'Sarah Geddes, an it please yer
capting,' says I. 'Then send the bally flowers to Sarah Geddes,' says
'e, 'and take precious good care as she gets 'em.' Gawd's truth, yer
could 'ave knocked me darn with a 'at pin. I never was took so suddin in
all me life."

"I wonder you didn't have your dinner in the Carlton Hotel, Sarah."

"So I would 'a' done if I'd hev bed time ter chinge me dress. You orter
know, Dook, as no lidy ever goes inter them plices in wot she's bin a
wearin' afore she cleaned herself. I'ad ter go ter Marlborough 'Ouse ter
tell the Prince of Wales, and that's wot kept me."

"Better luck next time, Sarah. So it only ran to a 'fourpenny' between
you and 'the Panorama.'"

"You shall all dine with me next week," said the young man in question.
"On my honor, I'll give you the best dinner you ever had in your life.
As for Sarah here, I'm going to put her in a flower shop in Bond
Street."

"Gar'n, silly, what 'ud I do in Bond Street? Much better buy the
Archbishop a church."

The erstwhile clergyman did not take the suggestion, in good part.

"I have always doubted my ability to conduct the affairs of a parish
methodically," he said, "that is--a little habit--a slight partiality to
the drug called morphia is not in my favor. This, I am aware, is a
drawback. The world judges my profession very harshly. A man in the city
who counts the collection indifferently will certainly become Lord
Mayor. The Establishment has no use for him--he is _de trop_, or as we
might say, a drop too much. This I recognize in frankly declining our
young friend's offer--with grateful thanks."

Sarah, the flower girl, seemed particularly amused by this frank
admission. Feeling in the depth of her shawl she produced a capacious
flask and a