Mrs. Mortimer held up her hand. "Let me answer the last first.
It is the key to almost everything."
But Billy arrived, and the explanation was deferred until after
his introduction.
"The flowers caught your eyes, didn't they, my dear?" Mrs.
Mortimer resumed. "And brought you in through my gate and right
up to me. And that's the very reason they were planted with the
vegetables--to catch eyes. You can't imagine how many eyes they
have caught, nor how many owners of eyes they have lured inside
my gate. This is a good road, and is a very popular short country
drive for townsfolk. Oh, no; I've never had any luck with
automobiles. They can't see anything for dust. But I began when
nearly everybody still used carriages. The townswomen would drive
by. My flowers, and then my place, would catch their eyes. They
would tell their drivers to stop. And--well, somehow, I managed
to be in the front within speaking distance. Usually I succeeded
in inviting them in to see my flowers . . . and vegetables, of
course. Everything was sweet, clean, pretty. It all appealed.
And--" Mrs. Mortimer shrugged her shoulders. "It is well known
that the stomach sees through the eyes. The thought of vegetables
growing among flowers pleased their fancy. They wanted my
vegetables. They must have them. And they did, at double the
market price, which they were only too glad to pay. You see, I
became the fashion, or a fad, in a small way. Nobody lost. The
vegetables were certainly good, as good as any on the market and
often fresher. And, besides, my customers killed two birds with
one stone; for they were pleased with themselves for
philanthropic reasons. Not only did they obtain the finest and
freshest possible vegetables, but at the same time they were
happy with the knowledge that they were helping a deserving
widow-woman. Yes, and it gave a certain tone to their
establishments to be able to say they bought Mrs. Mortimer's
vegetables. But that's too big a side to go into. In short, my
little place became a show place--anywhere to go, for a drive or
anything, you know, when time has to be killed. And it became
noised about who I was, and who my husband had been, what I had
been. Some of the townsladies I had known personally in the old
days. They actually worked for my success. And then, too, I used
to serve tea. My patrons became my guests for the time being. I
still serve it, when they drive out to show me off to their
friends. So you see, the flowers are one of the ways I
succeeded."
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