With each new grace
my bouquet took on, my pleasure and satisfaction increased at the
thought of how SHE would enjoy the completed evidence of my taste.
At length it was finished, but my delight suddenly became clouded
by the dreadful thought, "What will folks say?" Had we been in New
York instead of Hillcrest, no one but the florist, his messenger,
the lady and myself would know if I sent a bouquet to Miss Mayton;
but in Hillcrest, with its several hundred native-born gossips and
its acquaintance of everybody with everybody else and their
affairs, I feared talk. Upon the discretion of Mike, the coachman,
I could safely rely; I had already confidentially conveyed sundry
bits of fractional currency to him, and informed him of one of the
parties at our store whose family Mike had known in Old Erin; but
every one knew where Mike was employed; every one knew--
mysterious, unseen and swift are the ways of communication in the
country!--that I was the only gentleman at present residing at
Colonel Lawrence's. Ah!--I had it. I had seen in one of the
library-drawers a small pasteboard box, shaped like a band-box--
doubtless THAT would hold it. I found the box--it was of just the
size I needed. I dropped my card into the bottom,--no danger of a
lady not finding the card accompanying a gift of flowers,--neatly
fitted the bouquet in the center of the box, and went in search of
Mike.
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