One day Margaret and her father had been as far as the fields that lay around the town; it was early spring, and she had gathered some of the hedge and ditch flowers, dog-violets, lesser celandines, and the like, with an unspoken lament in her heart for the sweet profusion of the South. Her father had left her to go into Milton upon some business; and on the road home she met her humble friends. The girl looked wistfully at the flowers, and, acting on a sudden impulse, Margaret offered them to her. Her pale blue eyes lightened up as she took them, and her father spoke for her.
"Thank yo, Miss. Bessy'll think a deal o' them flowers; that hoo will; and I shall think a deal o' yor kindness. Yo're not of this country, I reckon?"
"No!" said Margaret, half sighing. "I come from the South--from Hampshire," she continued, a little afraid of wounding his consciousness of ignorance, if she used a name which he did not understand.

One day Margaret and her father had been as far as the fields that lay around the town. It was now early spring, and she had gathered some of the hedge flowers, dog-violets, celandines, and the like, with an unspoken lament in her heart for the sweet profusion of the South. Her father left her to go into Milton upon business; and on the road home she met her humble friends. The girl looked wistfully at the flowers, and, acting on a sudden impulse, Margaret offered them to her. Her pale blue eyes lightened up as she took them, and her father spoke.
'Thank yo, Miss. Bessy'll think a deal o' them flowers; that hoo will; and I shall think a deal o' your kindness. Yo're not of this country, I reckon?'
'No!' said Margaret, half sighing. 'I come from the South - from Hampshire,' she continued, a little afraid of using a name which he did not understand.
