They brought me presents of fruit and sweet-meats, and one who lived in the suburbs used to delight my heart, every now and then, with a rich bouquet of flowers.

Their beauty and perfume brought back a glimpse of the old times--dim visions of lawns and gardens, of singing-birds and humming-bees; of a fair smiling creature who led me by the hand through those bowers of enchantment, and called me her Geoffrey--her darling boy.
When such thoughts came over me, my hand trembled, and I could not see the parchment I was copying through my tears; but for all that, the sight of the flowers was always inexpressibly dear, and I prized them beyond every other gift.
I had been about eighteen months in the office, when my good Aunt Rebecca died--an event sudden and unexpected by all.

I was allowed to see her in her last moments; to sob out my full heart by her death-bed.
Her last words were an earnest request to her husband to be kind to poor Geoffrey, for her sake: she died--and I felt myself alone and friendless in the world..