Evidently it would be prudent to accept her offer if I wanted to have anything out of her basket. But that was just what I felt rather doubtful about doing. I had intended the shilling as a free gift, and had had no idea of receiving anything in return; besides that, it would be a nuisance to have a handful of flowers to carry about with me, and they would probably have begun to fade by the time I got home; so, altogether, I at first thought I would refuse them. On second thoughts, however, I changed my mind. The flowers would certainly brighten up my room, and I knew that I should like them if I could have them transported there without trouble; and, after all, it was just as well to have some value for one's money; and as she took it for granted that I should do so, there would be no disappointment to her in my having them. I said therefore-- "Will you pick me out a couple of good, fresh bunches, take them to a house that is not far off, and leave them there, with a message that Miss Caroline Jill wishes to have them put in water till she comes back?" "'Iss, lady," she answered; "I'll pick you the werry bestest and freshest as I 'as--and thank you kindly for what you've give me. What's the 'ouse as I'm to take 'em to?" I gave her the address of my lodging, and then we separated; she disappearing into the nearest baker's shop, and I continuing my way to A. G. My experience of life had not given me enough confidence in human nature to make me think it very likely that a street child was to be relied upon to keep a promise; and consequently I thought it highly problematical that I should find any flowers awaiting me on my return. But yet I did not the least regret the shilling I had thrown away upon her. It was a satisfaction to think that her hunger was being appeased, at any rate; indeed, if I had not known that that had been done, I should have exposed myself to the risk of feeling uncomfortable whenever I thought of her ravenous condition all day. So I had evidently acted for my own interest as well as hers. CHAPTER IX. A NERVOUS LADY. One of the numerous omnibuses running down Oxford Street deposited me pretty near where I wanted to go; and, after alighting, I had no difficulty in finding some one to direct me to the address I was in search of. This proved, to my surprise, to be a small greengrocer's shop, where one would certainly not expect that there would be any demand for a governess. However, it was unmistakably the address that had been given in the advertisement, so I edged my way in, past the piles of earthy baskets by which the entrance was almost choked, and spoke to the owner of the shop--a jolly-looking, burly, middle-aged man.