Henry did not immediately yield to the rough pull of his indignant
friend, for at this instant the door of a little back parlour behind the
watchmaker's shop opened slowly, and a girl of about seven years old
appeared, carrying, with difficulty, a flower-pot, in which there was a
fine large geranium in full flower. Henry, who saw that the child was
scarcely able to carry it, took it out of her hands, and asked her,
"Where she would like to have it put?"

"Here, for to-day!" said the little girl, sorrowfully; "but to-morrow it
goes away for ever."

The little girl was sorry to part with this geranium, because "she had
watched it all the winter," and said, "that she was very fond of it; but
that she was willing to part with it, though it was just come into
flower, because the apothecary had told her, that it was the cause of her
grandmother's having been taken ill. Her grandmother lodged," she said,
"in _that_ little room, and the room was very close, and she was taken
ill in the night--so ill, that she could hardly speak or stir; and when
the apothecary came, he said," continued the little girl, "it was no
wonder any body was ill, who slept in such a little close room, with such
a great geranium in it, _to poison the air_. So my geranium must go!"
concluded she with a sigh: "but, as it is for grandmother, I shall never
think of it again."

Henry Campbell and Forester were both struck with the modest simplicity
of this child's countenance and manner, and they were pleased with the
unaffected generosity with which she gave up her favourite geranium.
Forester noted this down in his mind as a fresh instance in favour of his
_exclusive_ good opinion of the poor. This little girl looked poor,