"'Tisn't trouble!" said the young man, more gently, still looking hard at Jenny, who never raised her eyes from her work. "When I'm at market, as I've often said before, it isn't much to bring home a few bunches of flowers. I should like to bring them every morning, if I may." He still glanced at Jenny, as if he hoped that the permission might come from her; but she made no sign, and old Dick himself broke the awkward silence by thanking the young man once more, and he then took his departure with a disappointed aspect. The flower-bearer slowly descended the stairs, nettled at the calm, patronising manner adopted by the old man. "Poor old chap," he muttered; "I wonder what he really does think." He said no more, for at the foot of the stairs he encountered a smartly-dressed youth, apparently a junior clerk in some city office. The look which passed between the young men was of no very friendly character; but, directly after, each went upon his way, thinking of his rival--the violet-bearer to his little half stall, half shop, where he, in a very humble fashion, contrived to make a good living--the other, smiling with contempt, ascending to old Dick Bradds' abode. For be it known that fair young Jenny Blossom was not without suitors, who were both at this time anything but peaceful at heart, since there was plenty of jealousy and annoyance at Jenny's coldness. They called it coldness, though hardly with justice, for the visits were none of Jenny's seeking, since she, poor girl, loved her grandfather, and though she confessed to herself that it was kind of Harry Smith to bring the violets, and to save her from going to the wet, cold market so early in the morning, yet she would very much rather that both--well, that Mr John Wilson, Sharpnesses' clerk, would stay away. But John Wilson was quite a favourite with the old man, and the intimacy had arisen when at several times the former had been the bearer of various small gratuities from the great auction firm to their old porter, while he was weak from his accident. Dick admired the young fellow's appearance and his smart way of dressing, so different from the fustian of Harry Smith, and upon more than one occasion he proved that years had not made him perfect, for said he, "Only think what a good thing it would be for you, my pet," referring, of course, to John Wilson's attentions; "what would become of you if I were taken away?" Jenny said nothing, and the old man talked on under the impression that affairs were as they were years before, and quite oblivious of the fact that Jenny had been for some time past his sole stay and support; and that if the young girl, with her busy fingers morning and evening, and the sale of her violets in the cold streets in the afternoon, could supply sustenance for both, her fate would not have been so very hard had he been taken away.