Timidly and hastily Pollyooly took three bunches of violets from her basket and held them out to him.
He gazed at them as if he could have torn them to pieces with his teeth. "Violets!" he cried, with ill-contained ferocity. "I don't want any violets! Keep them! Beastly things!" And he went furiously on.
"T-t-thank you, sir," said Pollyooly faintly after him, and she dropped a curtsey to the empty air.
The old gentleman went on with unabated savagery. He was plainly one of those to whom vegetable beauty does not appeal.
Before she reached the barracks, Pollyooly sold four more bunches of violets. As she went up the steps of that palatial structure, she was puzzling over the difficult question of how much of the four-and-two pence she had earned belonged rightfully to Captain Croome. She could not but regard the savage old gentleman's sixpence as her own, but she was very doubtful about Grizel's shilling.
The sentry at the top of the steps was for stopping her; but another soldier, Captain Croome's servant, was awaiting her coming, told him that she
