She admires a flower (pink camellia japonica, price half-a-crown), in my button-hole.

I give it her, and say: 'I ask an inestimable price for it, Miss Larkins.' 'Indeed! What is that ?' returns Miss Larkins.
'A flower of yours, that I may treasure it as a miser does gold.' 'You're a bold boy,' says Miss Larkins.

'There.' She gives it me, not displeased; and I put it to my lips, and then into my breast.

Miss Larkins, laughing, draws her hand through my arm, and says, 'Now take me back to Captain Bailey.' I am lost in the recollection of this delicious interview, and the waltz, when she comes to me again, with a plain elderly gentleman who has been playing whist all night, upon her arm, and says: 'Oh! here is my bold friend! Mr.Chestle wants to know you, Mr.
Copperfield.' I feel at once that he is a friend of the family, and am much gratified.
'I admire your taste, sir,' says Mr.Chestle.

'It does you credit.