Flowers, even edibles, were continuously found against her door, his card among them.

The situation somehow recalled to her the queer gentleman in shorts who threw vegetables over Mrs.Nickleby's garden wall.

Mrs.De Peyster felt outraged; she fumed; yet she dared not be outspokenly resentful.
She had at first no inkling of the meaning of these attentions.

It was Matilda who suggested the dismaying possibility.
"Don't you think, ma'am, he's trying to make love to you ?" "Make love to me!" rising in horror from one of Mrs.Gilbert's veteran "easy"-chairs.
"I'm sure it's that, ma'am," said the troubled Matilda.
"Matilda! Of all the effrontery!" "Indeed, it is an insult to you, ma'am.

But that may not be the worst of it.