CHAPTER VI

FIRST CUSTOMERS

On such a beautiful morning, before the sun had grown too hot, walking was pleasant enough, and Bella and Tom, excited and very eager over their new experience, did not feel tired; and if they did wish the distance shorter, it was only that they might be on the scene of action more quickly.

For the first part of the way they had the road mostly to themselves, but as the morning advanced, and as they drew near to Norton, they were constantly being overtaken by carts laden with all sorts of people and things: live fowls in coops, calves, little pigs under nets, or a fat sheep fastened in at the back of a market cart. Many of the market carts had women seated in them, carrying large white baskets full of fowls and ducks, or eggs and butter, all carefully tucked away under snow-white cloths. There were smaller carts, too, full of vegetables and fruit; and one which particularly roused Bella's interest was a florist's cart laden with beautiful ferns and flowers in pots, and, alas! for her own little supply, boxes of cut flowers.

A wave of hot blood swept over her cheeks. Her pretty bunches, so daintily and carefully arranged, seemed to her suddenly to become poor and shabby and worthless beside that handsome show of hothouse geraniums and roses, maidenhair and other ferns, and her step grew slow as her spirits sank. How could she ever go on and face all the people, and show them her poor little store?

Tom looked round at last, to see what the matter was, but he only laughed when Bella told him. "Oh, well," he said cheerfully, "I don't suppose he began with a pony and trap, and who is to say that we shan't be driving one some day! My eye, Bella, wouldn't it be fine to have a little turn-out like that!" and he capered in the road with delight at the thought.

Bella's spirits rose again. "If I had a greenhouse," she said, "I dare say we could grow maidenhair ferns, and roses too. Tom, do you think it would cost a lot of money to build a greenhouse?"

"No," said Tom sturdily; "I believe we could build one ourselves if we'd got the stuff. Bella, I'm going to learn carpentering, you see if I don't, and then I'll be able to make lots of things, hot-beds and greenhouses, and hencoops, and wheelbarrows."

Bella laughed. "We seem to be going to do a lot—some day, but I think we shall be old men and women before that day comes." Tom's enthusiasm was very cheering, though. "There are lots of lovely flowers I can grow without a greenhouse," she said, more contentedly; "just think, Tom, of stocks and carnations and roses, and—and lavender. Oh, Tom, won't we have a load to bring, in time, if we can get people to buy them!"

They had reached the town by this time, and all Tom's attention was taken up by the busy crowds. "We'd better go to High Street first, hadn't we? That's where all the shops are, and the Market-house, and most of the people."

"We'd better uncover our baskets first, and show what we've got to sell, hadn't we? I don't think it's too soon, do you?"

Bella rested hers against the railings of a church they were passing at the moment, and lifting off the cover, and turning back the damp cloth, she carefully raised her pretty bunches, and arranged them to what she thought was the best advantage. Her spirits rose again at the sight of them, for they certainly were very lovely, and so sweet! There were bunches of sweet-peas of all colours, and some of white only, and pink only, and some of every shade of violet, from the deepest to the palest. There were roses too, and 'boy's love,' mignonette, stocks, and pinks.

"Oh, they are sweet!" exclaimed Bella, as she drew in great breaths of their fragrance. "I am sure I should want to buy them if I saw any one else selling them."

"Come on," said Tom impatiently; he could not see that it mattered much how the bunches were arranged.

They strolled slowly on again, Bella feeling very conscious now, and very shy. She was wondering how she must begin. Must she go up to people and stop them, and ask them to buy her flowers?

Tom was so taken up with watching a sheepdog guiding a flock through the busy street, he forgot all about his duties as a salesman.

"Do stand still a minute and watch," he pleaded, and Bella stood.

How long they had stood she never knew, when she was suddenly recalled to the present, and her duty, by a voice saying, "What a perfectly lovely show of flowers! and, oh, the scent!" and looking quickly round, she found two ladies standing beside her gazing at her basket.

"Are they for sale?" asked one of the ladies, looking at Bella with a pleasant smile.

"Oh yes, ma'am, miss, I mean," stammered poor, shy Bella, and, to hide her blushing cheeks, she bent and lifted out some of her flowers that the ladies might see them better.

"How much a bunch are they?"

"Tuppence each the big ones, ma'am, and a penny the little ones," stammered Bella. She longed to give them to the lady, and ask her not to pay any money at all for them. "Some are all shades of one colour, and some are mixed."

"It is wonderful," she heard one lady say softly to the other. "I gave a shilling in London a day or two ago for a much smaller bunch than this."

"Where do you get such beautiful flowers?" she asked, turning again to Bella with her pleasant smile.

"I grow them myself, ma'am," said Bella, with shy pride.

"Do you really? Well, you must be a born gardener, I am sure, and you deserve to get on. Mary,"—turning to her companion again,—"I will have pink sweet-peas of different shades for the dinner-table to-night, and then that point will be settled and off my mind. Nothing could be prettier. Can you,"—to Bella—"give me six bunches of pink ones? At least four of pink, and two of white?"

Bella turned over her store eagerly, and found the number wanted.

"I must have some of your mignonette," said the other lady, "for the sake of the smell, and a bunch of those roses too. How much each are they?"

"Tuppence the roses, and a penny the mignonette, ma'am," said Bella.

"There is my money," said the sweet-pea lady, handing her a shilling.

"And there is my threepence," said the mignonette lady. "Do you come every week with flowers?"

"I am going to try to, ma'am," said Bella. "This is the first time I've been."

"Well, if you will call at my house when you come, I dare say I shall often be glad to have some of your flowers."

Bella's face brightened. She was so glad she would have this kind, friendly lady to go to; it would be splendid, too, to have a regular customer. That was what Aunt Maggie had hoped she would get.

"I live in the house next to the church. Do you remember passing a church at the top of the street, just as you come in to Norton?"

"Oh yes!" Bella and Tom exclaimed together. "We stopped by it to arrange our flowers."

"Well, the house next to it is mine. You won't forget, will you? Mrs. Watson, No. I High Street."

"Oh no, we shan't forget," they both answered her earnestly. "As if we could," said Tom, as he watched their two customers disappearing down the street. "I wish we could meet with some more customers like them."

Half an hour went by without bringing them another of any kind. The fact was, they were so shy they stood back in a quiet corner, where they were hidden by the crowd from any likely customers.

"I'm afraid the flowers will begin to droop, if we don't sell them soon," said Bella at last; and the thought spurred her into going up to a house near by and knocking at the door.

"Please, do you want any flowers?" she asked timidly of the rather grim-looking woman who came to the door.

"No, I don't," snapped the woman crossly. "The idea of bringing me to the door for nothing! Anybody'd think I'd got nothing else to do!" And the door was shut in Bella's face with a bang.

"Doesn't it make a difference how anybody speaks?" said Tom, receiving unconsciously a lesson in good manners and bad that he never forgot to the end of his life. But the woman's bad manners and temper had affected Bella so strongly that her eyes had filled with tears, and the little courage she had had ebbed away.

"I shall know now what it feels like to be spoken to so," she said in a husky voice, as she hastily wiped her eyes.

"Flowers, ma'am? Tuppence and a penny a bunch. Fresh this morning," said Tom brightly.

An old lady was peering closely into his basket, examining the contents.

"Give me three of those that are smelling so sweet."

Tom picked out one of stocks and 'boy's love,' and one of pinks and mignonette, and a bunch of roses.

"Have you got any lavender?"

"No, ma'am."

"I could bring you some in a week or two, ma'am," said Bella promptly, forgetting the snub she had received in the old lady's enjoyment of her flowers. "It isn't quite ready to cut yet."

"Very well, bring me two shillings' worth. I make it up into cushions to sell for Missions. If it is nice, I may order more."

"Thank you, ma'am; I'll cut it fresh the morning I bring it," said Bella delightedly.

"Very well; I live in this house we are standing by," and she pointed to the very one they had just been turned away from.

Bella's face flushed at the mere thought of having to face the bad-tempered servant again, but, as she remarked to Tom afterwards, they were told to call, and they wouldn't have gone unless they had been.

"That makes eighteenpence," said Tom, as Bella slipped the money into her purse, "and an order for two shillings' worth for another week. Ain't we getting on!"

"If we can only sell a few more bunches we'll go and get something to eat," said Bella. "I'm hungry; ain't you?"

"Starving," said Tom, with emphasis. "Let's get into a better place, where the people can see us."

"Flowers, penny a bunch," he called to the people as they passed by, and so many turned and looked, and then stopped, that they had soon sold half a dozen of their big bunches and many of the small ones. Their flowers were certainly very good and very cheap, and Norton people had not had the chance of buying such before. The florist who had passed the children on the road had a stall in the market-place, but he only sold hothouse flowers, and charged very highly for them.

"We have only six bunches left," said Bella joyfully; "we'll go and have something to eat now. Where can we go for it, Tom?"

"There's a stall in the market-house where they sell limpets and cockles, and——"

"Oh, I don't want limpets and cockles! I want a glass of milk and some buns. Don't you?"

"Rather," said Tom; "let's buy some buns at that shop down there, and go somewhere quiet to eat them. I wouldn't like to eat them in the shop, with every one looking, would you?"

"No; but we can't take milk away without something to carry it in."

"Well, we'll drink water. There's sure to be a pump or a drinking-fountain near."

So they went to the shop, and very proud Bella felt as she took out her purse and paid for the four buns the woman put in a bag for her.

"Anything else, missie?"

"No, thank you," said Bella, but rather regretfully, as her eyes fell on the tarts and sausage-rolls, and the bottles of sweets, and on the glasses of milk labelled 'Penny a glass.' A glass each would have cost twopence, and that with the buns would amount to sixpence. "It would be a dreadful lot out of what we've made," thought Bella, and bravely turned away.

The smell of the new buns was very enticing to two hungry little people who had had nothing to eat since their seven o'clock breakfast, and they did not dawdle on their way back to the friendly shelter of the church steps.

"Won't Charlie and Margery be excited to hear all about it?" laughed Bella, as she munched in placid content. "We ought to take something home to them."

"We'll take them one of those peppermint walking-sticks," said Tom, "shall we? They love that. I had one once, and Charlie always wanted one like it. I saw some in the market."

"We'll take them one each. Isn't it lovely to have money, and be able to buy things for people?"

"Rather," agreed Tom heartily. "Bell, I'm going to bring something from my garden next week. I've got French beans and marrows ready to cut."

A lady passed, and looked hard at the children and at the baskets standing beside them.

"Flowers, ma'am?" said ready Tom.

The lady paused. "I must see if I have any change," she said, and stood still while she looked in her hand-bag. "Yes, I've just threepence," and she went away carrying two of their remaining bunches.

For a few minutes longer they sat on, loth to move. "My legs are aching a bit, aren't yours?" asked Bella.

Tom nodded. "I shouldn't be sorry if we were at the other end of the five miles, should you?"

"I wish we were," sighed Bella, "and just meeting Charlie and Margery. I wonder if they've started yet?"

A lady came along pushing an invalid carriage, on which a little girl was lying. She lay perfectly flat, and looked very white and ill. As she passed she looked with wistful, weary eyes at Tom and Bella. Bella had picked up her basket to make room for the carriage to pass.

"Oh, what lovely flowers!" cried the little girl. "Mummy darling, do buy some. Are they for sale?" she added quickly, looking at Bella, a hot blush passing swiftly over her pale face.

"Yes, miss," said Bella, blushing too.

"I am sorry, darling, but I came out without my purse. I haven't a penny with me."

"Oh!" there was deep disappointment in the little invalid's tone.

Bella picked out the nicest bunch she had left. "Will you please to accept one?" she asked, blushing again, but very prettily. "I grew them myself. Will you take one, miss?"

The lady looked pleased, yet embarrassed. "It is very, very kind of you," she said, hesitating, "but I hardly like to. It seems almost like asking for them, and I expect you wanted to sell them?"

"We have sold a lot, nearly all we brought in. Please take them, ma'am;" and the lady, feeling it would give Bella more pleasure to have them accepted as a gift than paid for, did so with many thanks, and the little lady's delight was the richest payment Bella had had that day.

"Oh, thank you, thank you very much!" she cried delightedly, pressing the flowers to her pale face and breathing in the scent. "Do you come here often with flowers?"

"This is the first time," said Bella; "but we want to have some to bring every week. We've sold all we brought but these."

The lady looked in her basket. "If only I had my purse with me I should be glad to have those from you. Do you mind coming back to my house with me? It is not very far."

"No, ma'am, we'll come, but,"—Bella hesitated, wanting to say something, yet hardly knowing how to—"but if you don't want to go back, and—and if you like to take them, we'll trust—I mean, next week will do." It was out at last, amid a great deal of blushing.

The lady smiled. "Well, that is very thoughtful of you, and if you are sure you don't mind trusting me I shall be much obliged to you, for I have to be at my mother's house at one o'clock, and I think it must be that now. Stella, darling, you would like to carry the flowers, wouldn't you? That's it. Then I owe you fourpence for two twopenny bunches. I will not forget. Perhaps I shall see you here at this same place at the same time next week?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good-morning, and thank you."

"Good-morning, ma'am," they both answered; and the little invalid called back gratefully, "Good-bye, and thank you ever so much for my lovely flowers."

"Now," said Tom excitedly, "all we've got to do is to walk home."

"When we've got the children's walking-sticks," corrected Bella, and they both hurried down to the market-house to get them.

"We'll take home some cinnamon rock to Aunt Emma," said Bella; "she likes that better than anything."

At last, with their baskets empty save for their purchases, they proudly and joyfully turned their faces homewards, delighted in every way with their day's experiences.

The walk home certainly did seem rather long, far longer than the walk out, but they were very tired, of course, for they had been on their feet, with scarcely any rest, since four in the morning. The sun was hot too, and the road dusty, and such a number of carriages and carts passed them that the air all the time seemed full of a haze of dust—at least it did until they had got a couple of miles or so away from Norton. After that it grew less bustling and much pleasanter. And then by the last milestone, which was a good mile from May Lane, they found their father and Margery and Charlie waiting for them.

All their tiredness vanished then in a trice, and the last mile was covered and home reached almost before they had begun to tell all they had to say.

It was not much past four o'clock by the time they reached the cottage, but Aunt Emma had finished all her scrubbing and cleaning, and had tidied herself, and got tea all spread ready for them, and she actually came out to meet them, seeming really glad to see them, and when they gave her the cinnamon rock it was plain to see that she was really pleased that they had thought of her.

"Now come in and take off your boots, and put on your old slippers to rest your feet; you must be tired out," she said kindly. They certainly looked very tired, though they were too excited just then to feel so.

"There's apple-tart for tea," whispered Margery, as she followed Bella upstairs. "I saw Aunt Emma making it. It's for you and Tom!"

Bella could hardly believe her ears, but when they sat down to table there was the tart, sure enough; and as they sat there eating and talking over their adventures and drinking their tea and laughing, Bella thought she had never known such a perfectly happy, lovely day in all her life before.

And how splendid it was to hear them all exclaim when Bella took out her purse and counted out on the table the money she had earned that day! "And there's sixpence owing, and four-pence we spent on buns, that would make ten-pence more!" she said proudly.

"You must put it in the Savings Bank towards buying your cold frame," said her father; "and it won't be so very long either before you'll have enough to get it with, if you do as well every week as you have to-day. You can't always expect, though, to have such a lot of flowers as you've got just now."

"I think I shall take some bunches of herbs in with me next time," said Bella. "Don't you think they'd sell, father?"

"I should think most people grow their own," said her father; "still, you can but try. The weight of them won't hurt you, even if you have to bring them back again."

"Bella, if I've got some flowers next Saturday, will you take in a bunch and sell them for me?" asked Margery excitedly. "Then I'll have a penny to put in the bank too."

"Oh, yours are fairy flowers," teased Charlie; "they would die on the way, or turn into something else."

Margery was not going to be teased. "P'raps they'd turn into fairies," she said, nodding her head wisely at her brother; "then they'd turn all Bella's pennies into golden sov'rins, and make a little horse and carriage to drive her home in."

"I'll find you some sandwiches or cake or something to take with you next week," said Aunt Emma; "it's a pity you should spend your money on buns and things. It'll be better for you, and cheaper, to take your own with you."

Tom and Bella could scarcely believe their ears, but they felt very pleased, and thanked her very gratefully.