“Of course--of course; I remember all this. But something will turn up, or I shall find a friend to advance the money. You shall sketch me your idea of the frontage, Florence. I’ll go and pace the ground while you finish your chat with the good woman.” It was a comfort to learn in answer to her inquiries that the property in question was in the hands of a wary lawyer, not likely to be easily persuaded into parting with it; and, reminding herself that Mr. Heriton’s ruling passion was likely to crop out, go wherever she would, Florence concluded her arrangements, and prepared to depart. As she waited at the gate for her father, who was immersed in measurements and calculations, Mrs. Bick nodded the brown ringlets in the direction of a very feeble little old man who was tottering toward them. “That’s my Dannle. Poor old chap! He be a’most past work, and yet he will potter about his garden every spare minute. Dannle,” she shrieked, as soon as he came within hearing, “I’ve let the rooms to miss here and her pa; and there’s two buds on the white rangium; I seen ’em just now for the first time.” Daniel Bick took off his hat to the young lady, and smiled pleasantly at his wife’s information. But he was a man of few words; and his gratification at Florence’s gentle commendation of his flowers was only shown by his gathering a lovely little bouquet of violets and snowdrops, and silently putting them into her hand. “Well, now,” was his wife’s comment, “’tain’t often Dannle does that for anybody. I reckon he likes you a’ready. I’ll have the beds well aired, trust me; and now I must go and see to my old man’s dinner.” As Florence turned at the foot of the hill to nod another adieu to the old man, who still stood at the gate watching her graceful figure, a gentleman rode rapidly toward them on a spirited bay mare. Mr. Heriton was so deeply absorbed in his contemplation of the eligible investment that as he walked backward he would have been run over but for his daughter’s warning cry and the promptness of the rider, who sharply wheeled his animal aside as soon as he saw the danger. As, with a polite expression of regret, he lifted his hat, their eyes met, and Florence recognized the bearded stranger of the Albany. He, too, knew her again, and seemed disposed to address her; but, checking the impulse, he bowed low, and rode on again more rapidly than before. CHAPTER IX. ALONE IN THE WORLD.