You must send them in the morning. But I am
going out of town to-day, and so I came in to order them now. Be very
careful not to send them to-day!"

_The Florist:_ "All rhighdt. I loog oudt."

_The Second Lady:_ "I am so glad you happened to ask me. It has all been
so dreadfully sudden, and I am quite bewildered. Let me think if there
is anything more!" As she stands with her finger to her lip, the first
lady makes a movement as if about to speak, but does not say anything.
"No, there is nothing more, I believe."

_The Florist_, to the First Lady: "Was there somet'ing?"

_The First Lady:_ "No. There is no hurry."

_The Second Lady_, turning towards her: "Oh, I beg your pardon! I have
been keeping you"--

_The First Lady:_ "Not at all. I merely returned to--But it isn't of the
least consequence. Don't let me hurry you!"

_The Second Lady:_ "Oh, I have quite finished, I believe. But I can
hardly realize anything, and I was afraid of going away and forgetting
something, for I am on my way to the station. My husband is very ill,
and I am going South with him; and this has been so sudden, so terribly
unexpected. The only daughter of a friend"--

_The First Lady:_ "The only"--

_The Second Lady:_ "Yes, it is too much! But perhaps you have come--I
ought to have thought of it; you may have come on the same kind of sad
errand yourself; you will know how to excuse"--

_The First Lady_, with a certain resentment: "Not at all! I was just
ordering some flowers for a reception."

_The Second Lady:_ "Oh! Then I beg your pardon! But there seems nothing
else in the world but--death. I am very sorry. I beg your pardon!" She
hastens out of the shop, and the first lady remains, looking a moment at
the door after she has vanished. Then she goes slowly to the counter.

_The Lady_, severely: "Mr. Eichenlaub, I have changed my mind about the
roses and the smilax. I will not have either. I want you to send me all
of that jasmine vine that you can get. I will have my whole decorations
of that. I wonder I didn't think of that before. Mr. Eichenlaub!" She
hesitates. "Who was that lady?"

_The Florist_, looking about among the loose papers before him: "Why, I
dton't know. I cot her cart here, somewhere."

_The Lady_, very nervously: "Never mind about the card! I don't wish to
know who she was. I have no right to ask. No! I won't look at it." She
refuses the card, which he has found, and which he offers to her. "I
don't care for her