HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY

THE

HILDEGARDE-MARGARETSERIES

By Laura E. Richards

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative,illustrated, per volume, $1.75

Queen Hildegarde Hildegarde'sHoliday Hildegarde's HomeHildegarde's Neighbors Hildegarde'sHarvest Three Margarets Margaret

Montfort Peggy Rita Fernley HouseThe Merryweathers

The above eleven volumes boxed as a set,$19.25

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 53 BeaconStreet, Boston, Mass.

THE HILDEGARDE SERIES

Hildegarde's Holiday

A STORY FOR GIRLS

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

Author of

"The Margaret Series," "The HildegardeSeries," "Captain January," "Melody,""Five Minute Stories," etc.

ILLUSTRATED

THE PAGE COMPANY

BOSTON PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1891 BY ESTES ANDLAURIAT

Made in U. S. A.

Twenty-fourth Impression, May, 1927Twenty-fifth Impression, January, 1930

THE COLONIAL PRESS C. H.SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.

To H. R.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER PAGE

I. INTRODUCTORY 11

II. MISS WEALTHY 20

III. THE ORCHARD 34

IV. THE DOCTORS 53

V. ON THE RIVER 74

VI. A MORNING DRIVE 94

VII. A "STORY EVENING" 126

VIII. FLOWER-DAY 151

IX. BROKEN FLOWERS 178

X. THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD 201

XI. "UP IN THE MORNINGEARLY" 222

XII. BENNY 241

XIII. A SURPRISE 254

XIV. TELEMACHUS GOES A-FISHING 278

XV. THE GREAT SCHEME 300

XVI. THE WIDOW BRETT 314

XVII. OLD MR. COLT 337

XVIII. JOYOUS GARD 354

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE "'DO TELL US ABOUT HER,PLEASE!'" (p. 128) Frontispiece "'ANDEVERYTHING IS RIGHT FORSUPPER, MARTHA '" 23 "'DO SAYIT'S ALL RIGHT, JEREMIAH!'" 77"THEN THEY HUGGED EACHOTHER A LITTLE" 111 "'DON'TYOU THINK WE HAVE ENOUGH

FLOWERS, ROSY '" 174 "SO DOWNPLUMPED HILDEGARDE" 194"'OH, SUCH A DEE OLE KITTY!'"247 "'NOT A THING IN THEHOUSE!'" 333

HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

In a small waiting-room at BlankHospital a girl was walking up and

down, with quick, impatient steps.Every few minutes she stopped tolisten; then, hearing no sound, sheresumed her walk, with hands claspedand lips set firmly together. She wasevidently in a state of high nervousexcitement, for the pupils of her eyeswere so dilated that they flashed blackas night instead of gray; and a brightred spot burned in either cheek. In thecorner, in an attitude of anxiousdejection, sat a small dog. He had triedfollowing his mistress at first, when shebegan her walk, and finding that thepromenade took them nowhere andwas very monotonous, had tried to varythe monotony by worrying her heels ina playful manner; whereupon he had

been severely reprimanded, and sentinto the corner, from which he darednot emerge. He was trying, with hisusual lack of success, to fathom themotives which prompted human beingsto such strange and undoglike actions,when suddenly a door opened, and alady and gentleman came in. The girlsprang forward. "Mamma!" she cried."Doctor!"

"It is all right, my dear," said the doctor,quickly; while the lady, whose name wasMrs. Grahame, took the girl in her armsquietly, and kissed her. "It is all right;everything has gone perfectly, and in afew days your lovely friend will bebetter than she has ever been since she

was a baby."

Hildegarde Grahame sat down, andleaning her head on her mother'sshoulder, burst into tears.

"Exactly!" said the good doctor. "Thebest thing you could do, my child! Doyou want to hear the rest now, or shall Ileave it for your mother to tell "

"Let her hear it all from you, Doctor,"said Mrs. Grahame. "It will do her moregood than anything else."

Hildegarde looked up and nodded, andsmiled through her tears.

"Well," said the cheerful physician,"Miss Angel (her own name is animpossibility, and does not belong toher) has really borne the operationwonderfully. Marvellously!" herepeated. "The constitution, you see,was originally good. There was afoundation to work upon; that meanseverything, in a case like this. Now allthat she requires is to be built up, builtup! Beef tea, chicken broth, wine jelly,and as soon as practicable, fresh air andexercise, there is your programme, MissHildegarde; I think I can depend uponyou to carry it out."

The girl stretched out her hand, whichhe grasped warmly. "Dear, good

doctor!" she said; whereupon thephysician growled, and went andlooked out of the window.

"And how soon will she be able towalk " asked the happy Hildegarde,drying her eyes and smiling through thejoyful tears. "And when may I see her,Doctor and how does she look,Mamma darling "

"Place aux dames!" said the Doctor. "Youmay answer first, Mrs. Grahame,though your question came last."

"Dear, she looks like a white rose!"replied Mrs. Grahame. "She is sleepingquietly, with no trace of pain on her

sweet face. Her breathing is as regular asa baby's; all the nurses are coming ontiptoe to look at her, and they all say,'Bless her!' when they move away."

"My turn now," said Dr. Flower. "Youmay see her, Miss Hildegarde, the dayafter to-morrow, if all goes well, as Iam tolerably sure it will; and she will beable to walk well, say in a month."

"Oh! a month!" cried Hildegarde,dolefully. "Do you mean that shecannot walk at all till then, Doctor "

"Why, Hilda!" said Mrs. Grahame, ingentle protest. "Pink has not walked forfourteen years, remember; surely a

month is a very short time for her tolearn in."

"I suppose so," said the girl, stilllooking disappointed, however.

"Oh, she will begin before that!" said Dr.Flower. "She will begin in ten days,perhaps. Little by little, you know, a stepat a time. In a fortnight she may go outto drive; in fact, carriage exercise will bea very good thing for her. An easycarriage, a gentle horse, a careful driver"

"Oh, you best of doctors!" criedHildegarde, her face glowing again withdelight. "Mamma, is not that exactly

what we want I do believe we can do it,after all. You see, Doctor Oh, tell him,Mammy dear! You will tell him somuch better."

"Hildegarde has had a very delightfulplan for this summer, Doctor," saidMrs. Graham, "ever since you gave usthe happy hope that this operation,after the year of treatment, wouldrestore our dear Rose to completehealth. A kinswoman of mine, a verylovely old lady, who lives in Maine,spent a part of last winter with us, andbecame much interested in Rose, orPink, as we used to call her."

"But we don't call her so now, Mammy!"

cried Hildegarde, impetuously. "Rose isexactly as much her own name, and shelikes it much better; and even Bubblesays it is prettier. But I didn't mean tointerrupt, Mammy dear. Go on, please!"

"So," continued Mrs. Grahame, smiling,"Cousin Wealthy invited the two girls tomake her a long visit this summer, assoon as Rose should be able to travel. Iam sure it would be a good thing forthe child, if you think the journeywould not be too much for her; for it isa lovely place where Cousin Wealthylives, and she would have the best ofcare."

"Capital!" cried Dr. Flower; "the very

thing! She shall be able to travel, my dearmadam. We will pack her in cottonwool if necessary; but it will not benecessary. It is now let me see May10th; yes, quite so! By the 15th of Juneyou may start on your travels, MissHildegarde. There is a railway near yourcousin's home, Mrs Grahame "

"Oh, yes!" cried Hilda. "It goes quitenear, doesn't it, Mamma "

"Within two or three miles," said Mrs.Grahame; "and the carriage road is verygood."

"That is settled, then!" said Dr. Flower,rising; "and a very good thing too. And

now I must go at once and tell thegood news to that bright lad, MissRose's brother. He is at school, I thinkyou said "

"Yes," replied Hildegarde. "He said hewould rather not know the exact day,since he could not be allowed to help.Good Bubble! he has been so patientand brave, though I know he hasthought of nothing else day and night.Thank you, Doctor, for being so kindas to let him know. Good-by!"

But when Dr. Flower went out into thehall, he saw standing opposite the doora boy, neatly dressed and very pale, withburning eyes, which met his in an

agony of inquiry.

"She is all right," said the physician,quickly. "She is doing extremely well,and will soon be able to walk like otherpeople. How upon earth did you know" he added, in some vexation, seeingthat the sudden relief from terribleanxiety was almost more than the ladcould bear. "What idiot told you "

Bubble Chirk gave one great sob; butthe next moment he controlled himself."Nobody told me," he said; "I knew. Ican't tell you how, sir, but I knew!"

CHAPTER II.

MISS WEALTHY.

It was the 17th of June, and MissWealthy Bond was expecting her youngvisitors. Twice she had gone over thehouse, with Martha trotting at her heels,to see that everything was in order, andnow she was making a third tour ofinspection; not because she expected tofind anything wrong, but because it wasa pleasure to see that everything wasright.

Miss Wealthy Bond was a very prettyold lady, and was very well aware of thefact, having been told so during seventy

years. "The Lord made me pleasant tolook at," she was wont to say, "and it isa great privilege, my dear; but it is also aresponsibility." She had lovely, ripplingsilver hair, and soft blue eyes, and acomplexion like a girl's. She had put onto-day, for the first time, her summercostume, a skirt and jacket of stripedwhite dimity, open a little at the neck,with a kerchief of soft white net inside.This kerchief was fastened with quitethe prettiest brooch that ever was, apansy, made of five deep, clearamethysts, set in a narrow rim ofchased gold. Miss Wealthy always worethis brooch; for in winter itharmonized as well with her gown oflilac cashmere as it did in summer with

the white dimity. At her elbow stoodMartha; it was her place in life. Sheseldom had to be called; but was alwaysthere when Miss Wealthy wantedanything, standing a step back, butclose beside her beloved mistress.Martha carried her aureole in herpocket, or somewhere else out of sight;but she was a saint all the same. Hergray hair was smooth, and she worespectacles with silver rims, and a grayprint gown, with the sleeves invariablyrolled up to the elbows, except onSundays, when she put on her blackcashmere, and spent the afternoon inuneasy state.

"I think the room looks very pretty,

Martha," said Miss Wealthy, for thetenth time.

"It does, Mam," replied Martha, asheartily as if she had not heard theremark before. "Proper nice it looks,I'm sure."

"You mended that little place in thecurtain, did you, Martha "

"I did, Mam. I don't think as you couldfind it now, unless you looked veryclose."

"And you put lavender and orange-flower water in the bottles Very well;then that's all, I think."

Miss Wealthy gave one more contentedlook round the pretty room, with itsgay rose-flowering chintz, its cool strawmatting, and comfortable cushionedwindow-seats, and then drew the blindsexactly half-way down, and left theroom, Martha carefully closing thedoor.

In the cool, shady drawing-room allwas in perfect order too. There wereflowers in the tall Indian vases on themantelpiece, a great bowl of roses onthe mosaic centre-table, and, as usual, abunch of pansies on the little round

table by the armchair in which MissWealthy always sat. She establishedherself there now, and took up herknitting with a little sigh ofcontentment.

"And everything is right for supper,Martha " she asked.

"Yes, Mam," said Martha. "A littlechicken-pie, Mam, and Frenchpotatoes, and honey. I should bemaking the biscuit now, Mam, if youdidn't need me."

"Oh no, Martha," said the old lady, "Idon't need anything. We shall hear thewheels when they come."

She looked out of the window, acrossthe pleasant lawn, at the blue river, andseemed for a moment as if she weregoing to ask Martha whether that wereall right. But she said nothing, and thesaint in gray print trotted away to herkitchen.

"Dear Martha!" said Miss Wealthy,settling herself comfortably among hercushions. "It is a great privilege to haveMartha. I do hope these dear girls willnot put her out. She grows a little set inher ways as she grows older, my goodMartha. I don't think that blind is quitehalf-way down. It makes the wholeroom look askew, doesn't it "

She rose, and pulled the blind straight,patted a tidy on the back of a chair, andsettled herself among her cushionsagain, with another critical glance at theriver. A pause ensued, during which theold lady's needles clicked steadily; then,at last, the sound of wheels was heard,and putting her work down in exactlythe same spot from which she hadtaken it up, Miss Wealthy went out onthe piazza to welcome her youngguests.

Hildegarde sprang lightly from thecarriage, and gave her hand to hercompanion to help her out.

"Dear Cousin Wealthy," she cried, "herewe are, safe and sound. I am coming tokiss you in one moment. Carefully,Rose dear! Lean on me, so! there you are!now take my arm. Slowly, slowly! See,Cousin Wealthy! see how well shewalks! Isn't it delightful "

"It is, indeed!" said the old lady, heartily,kissing first the glowing cheek and thenthe pale one, as the girls came up to her."And how do you do, my dears I amvery glad indeed to see you. Rose, youlook so much better, I should hardlyhave known you; and you, Hilda, looklike June itself. I must call Martha " ButMartha was there, at her elbow. "Oh,Martha! here are the young ladies."

Hildegarde shook hands warmly withMartha, and Rose gave one of her shy,sweet smiles.

"This is Miss Hildegarde," said the oldlady; "and this is Miss Rose. Perhapsyou will take them up to their roomsnow, Martha, and Jeremiah can take thetrunks up. We will have supper, mydears, as soon as you are ready; for I amsure you must be hungry."

"Yes, we are as hungry as hunters,Cousin Wealthy!" cried Hildegarde. "Weshall frighten you with our appetites, Ifear. This way, Martha Yes, in oneminute. Rose dear, I will put my arm

round you, and you can take hold ofthe stair-rail. Slowly now!"

They ascended the stairs slowly, andHildegarde did not loose her hold ofher friend until she had seated her in acomfortable easy-chair in the prettychintz bedroom.

"There, dear!" she said anxiously,stooping to unfasten her cloak. "Areyou very dreadfully tired "

"Oh no!" replied Rose, cheerfully; "notat all dreadfully tired, only comfortably. Iache a little, of course, but Oh, what apleasant room! And this chair iscomfort itself."

"The window-seat for me!" criedHildegarde, tossing her hat on the bed,and then leaning out of the windowwith both arms on the sill. "Rose, don'tmove! I forbid you to stir hand or foot.I will tell you while you are resting.There is a river, a great, wide, beautifulriver, just across the lawn."

"Well, dear," said quiet Rose, smiling,"you knew there was a river; yourmother told us so."

"Yes, Goose, I did know it," criedHildegarde; "but I had not seen it, anddidn't know what it was like. It is allblue, with sparkles all over it, and little

brown flurries where the wind strikesit. There are willows all along the edge "

"To hang our harps on " inquired Rose.

"Precisely!" replied Hildegarde. "And Ithink Rose, I do see a boat-house! Mydear, this is bliss! We will bathe everymorning. You have never seen me dive,Rose."

"I have not," said Rose; "and it wouldbe a pity to do it out of the window,dear, because in the first place I shouldonly see your heels as you went out,and in the second "

"Peace, paltry soul!" cried Hilda. "Here

comes a scow, loaded with wood. Thewood has been wet, and is all yellowand gleaming. 'Scow,' what an absurdword! 'Barge' is prettier."

"It sounds so like Shalott," said Rose;"I must come and look too.

"'By the margin, willow-veiled, Slide theheavy barges, trailed By slow horses.'"

"Yes, it is just like it!" cried Hildegarde."It is really a redeeming feature in you,Rose, that you are so apt in yourquotations. Say the part about the river;that is exactly like what I am lookingat."

"Do you say it!" said Rose, comingsoftly forward, and taking her seatbeside her friend. "I like best to hearyou."

And Hildegarde repeated in a low tone,

"Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Littlebreezes dusk and shiver Through thewave that runs forever By the island inthe river Flowing down to Camelot."

The two girls squeezed each other'shand a little, and looked at the shiningriver, and straightway forgot that therewas anything else to be done, till asharp little tinkle roused them fromtheir dream.

"Oh!" cried Hildegarde. "Rose, howcould you let me go a-woolgathering Justlook at my hair!"

"And my hands!" said Rose, in dismay."And we said we were as hungry ashunters, and would be down in aminute. What will Miss Bond say "

"Well, it is all the river's fault," saidHildegarde, splashing vigorously in thebasin. "It shouldn't be so lovely! Here,dear, here is fresh water for you. Nowthe brush! Let me just wobble your hairup for you, so. There! now you are mypinkest Rose, and I am all right too; sodown we go."

Miss Wealthy had been seriouslydisturbed when the girls did not appearpromptly at sound of the tea-bell. Shetook her seat at the tea-table andlooked it over carefully. "Punctuality isso important," she said, half to herselfand half to Martha, who had just setdown the teapot, "That mat is not quitestraight, is it, Martha especially in youngpeople. I know it makes you nervous,Martha," Martha did not look in theleast nervous, "but it will probably nothappen again. If the butter were a littlefarther this way! Thank you, Martha.Oh, here you are, my dears! Sit down,pray! You must be very hungry afterBut probably you felt the need of

resting a little, and to-morrow you willbe quite fresh."

"No, it wasn't that, Cousin Wealthy,"said Hildegarde, frankly. "I am ashamedto say that we were looking out of thewindow, and the river was so lovely thatwe forgot all about supper. Pleaseforgive us this once, for really we arepretty punctual generally. It is part ofPapa's military code, you know."

"True, my dear, true!" said MissWealthy, brightening up at once. "Yourfather is very wise. Regular habits are agreat privilege, really. Will you have tea,Hilda dear, or milk "

"Oh, milk, please!" said Hilda. "I amnot to take tea till I am twenty-one,Cousin Wealthy, nor coffee either."

"And a very good plan," said MissWealthy, approvingly. "Milk is thenatural beverage will you cut that pie,dear, and help Rose, and yourself forthe young. When one is older, however,a cup of tea is very comforting. Nonefor me, thank you, dear. I have my littledish of milk-toast, but I thought thepie would be just right for you youngpeople. Martha's pastry is so very lightthat a small quantity of it is notinjurious."

"Rose!" said Hildegarde, in tones of

hushed rapture, "it is a chicken-pie, andit is all for us. Hold your plate, favoredone of the gods! A river, a boat-house,and chicken-pie! Cousin Wealthy, I amso glad you asked us to come!"

"Are you, dear " said Miss Wealthy,looking up placidly from her milk-toast, "Well, so am I!"

CHAPTER III.

THE ORCHARD.

Next morning, when breakfast wasover, Miss Wealthy made a little speech,

giving the two girls the freedom of theplace.

"You will find your own way about, mydears," she said. "I will only give yousome general directions. The orchard isto the right, beyond the garden. Thereis a pleasant seat there under one of theapple-trees, where you may like to sit.Beyond that are the woods. On theother side of the house is the barnyard,and the road goes by to the village. Youwill find plenty of flowers all about,and I hope you will amuse yourselves."

"Oh, indeed we shall, Cousin Wealthy!"cried Hildegarde. "It is delight enoughjust to breathe this delicious air and

look at the river."

They were sitting on the piazza, fromwhich the lawn sloped down to a greathedge of Norway fir, just beyondwhich flowed the broad blue stream ofthe Kennebec.

"How about the river, Cousin Wealthy "asked Hildegarde, timidly. "I thought Isaw a boat-house through the trees.Could we go out to row "

Miss Wealthy seemed a little flurried bythe question. "My dear," she said, andhesitated, "my dear, have you do yourparents allow you to go on the waterCan you swim "

"Oh, yes," said Hildegarde, "I can swimvery well, Cousin Wealthy, at least, Papasays I can; and I can row and paddleand sail."

"Oh, not sail!" cried Miss Wealthy, withan odd little catch in her breath, "notsail, my dear! I could not I could notthink of that for a moment. But there isa row-boat," she added, after a pause,"a boat which Jeremiah uses. IfJeremiah thinks she is perfectly safe,you can go out, if you feel quite sureyour parents would wish it."

"Oh, I am very sure," said Hildegarde;"for I asked Papa, almost the last thing

before we left. Thank you, CousinWealthy, so much! We will be ratherquiet this morning, for Rose does notfeel very strong; but this afternoonperhaps we will try the boat. Isn't theresomething I can do for you, CousinWealthy Can't I help Martha I can do allkinds of work, can't I, Rose and I loveit!"

But Martha had a young girl in thekitchen, Miss Wealthy said, whom shewas training to help her; and sheherself had letters to write andaccounts to settle. So the two girlssauntered off slowly, arm in arm; Roseleaning on her friend, whose strongyoung frame seemed able to support

them both.

The garden was a very pleasant place,with rhubarb and sunflowers, sweetpeas and mignonette, planted here andthere among the rows of vegetables,just as Jeremiah's fancy suggested. MissWealthy's own flower-beds, trim andgay with geraniums, pansies, andheliotrope, were under the dining-roomwindows; but somehow the girls likedJeremiah's garden best. Hildegardepulled some sweet peas, and stuck thewinged blossoms in Rose's fair hair,giving a fly-away look to her smoothlocks. Then she began to sniffinquiringly. "Southernwood!" she said,"I smell southernwood somewhere,

Rose. Where is it "

"Yonder," said Rose, pointing to afeathery bush not far off.

"Oh! and there is lavender too, Hilda!Do you suppose we may pick some Ido like to have a sprig of lavender inmy belt."

At this moment Jeremiah appeared,wheeling a load of turf. He was "longand lank and brown as is the ribbedsea-sand," and Hildegarde mentallychristened him the Ancient Mariner onthe spot; but he smiled sadly and said,"Good-mornin'," and seemed pleasedwhen the girls praised his garden. "Ee-

yus!" he said, with placid melancholy."I've seen wuss places. Minglin' theblooms with the truck and herbs wasmy idee, as you may say, 'livens up one,and sobers down the other. She laughsat me, but she don't keer, s'long as shehas all she wants. Cut ye somemignonette That's very favoryte withme, very favoryte."

He cut a great bunch of mignonette;and Rose, proffering her request forlavender, received a nosegay as big asshe could hold in both hands.

"The roses is just comin' on," he said."Over behind them beans they are. Asight o' roses there'll be in another

week. Coreopsis is pooty, too; that'sdown the other side of the corn. Curusgarding, folks thinks; but, there, it's myidee, and she don't keer."

Much amused, the girls thanked themelancholy prophet, and wanderedaway into the orchard, to find the seatthat Miss Wealthy had told them of.

"Oh, what a lovely, lovely orchard!"cried Hildegarde, in delight; and indeedit was a pretty place. The apple-treeswere old, and curiously gnarled andtwisted, bending this way and that, asapple-trees will. The short, fine grasswas like emerald; there were no flowersat all, only green and brown, with the

sunlight flickering through thebranches overhead. They found theseat, which was curiously wedged intothe double trunk of the very patriarchof apple-trees.

"Do look at him!" cried Hildegarde."He is like a giant with the rheumatism.Suppose we call him Blunderbore.What does twist them so, Rose Look!there is one with a trunk almosthorizontal."

"I don't know," said Rose, slowly."Another item for the ignorance list,Hilda. It is growing appallingly long. Ireally don't know why they twist so. Inthe forest they grow much taller than in

orchards, and go straight up. FarmerHartley has seen one seventy feet high,he says."

"Let us call it vegetable rheumatism!"said Hildegarde. "How is your poorback this morning, ma'am " Sheaddressed an ancient tree withrespectful sympathy; indeed, it did looklike an aged dame bent almost double."Have you ever tried Pond's Extract Ithink I must really buy a gallon or sofor you. And as long as you must bendover, you will not mind if I take a littlewalk along your suffering spine, and siton your arm, will you "

She walked up the tree, and seated

herself on a branch which was crookedlike a friendly arm, making a verycomfortable seat. "She's a dear old lady,Rose!" she cried. "Doesn't mind a bit,but thinks it rather does her good, likemassage, you know. What do yousuppose her name is "

"Dame Crump would do, wouldn't it "replied Rose, looking critically at thevenerable dame.

"Of course! and that ferocious oldperson brandishing three arms overyonder must be Croquemitaine,

"'Croquemitaine! Croquemitaine! Nedinerai pas 'vec toi!'

I think they are rather a savage set, don'tyou, Rosy all except my dear DameCrump here."

"I know they are," said Rose, in a lowvoice. "Hush! the three witches are justbehind you, Hilda. Their skinny armsare outstretched to clasp you! Fly, andsave yourself from the caldron!"

"Avaunt!" cried Hilda, springing lightlyfrom Dame Crump's sheltering arm."Ye secret, black, and midnight hags,what is 't ye do "

"A deed without a name!" mutteredRose, in sepulchral tones.

"I think it is, indeed!" cried Hildegarde,laughing. "Poor old gouty things! theycan only claw the air, like GrandfatherSmallweed, and cannot take a singlestep to clutch me."

"Just like me, as I was a year ago," saidRose, smiling.

"Rose! how can you " cried Hildegarde,indignantly; "as if you had not alwaysbeen a white rosebush."

"On wheels!" said Rose. "I often thinkof my dear old chair, and wonder if itmisses me. Hildegarde dear!"

"My lamb!" replied Hildegarde, sittingdown by her friend and giving her alittle hug.

"I wish you could know howwonderful it all is! I wish no, I don'twish you could be lame even for halfan hour; but I wish you could justdream that you were lame, and thenwake up and find everything rightagain. Having always walked, youcannot know the wonder of it. Tothink that I can stand up so! and walkso! actually one foot before the other,just like other people. Oh! and I used towonder how they did it. I don't nowunderstand how 'four-leggers,' asBubble calls them, move so many

things without getting mixed up."

"Dear Rose! you are happy, aren't you "exclaimed Hildegarde, with delight.

"Happy!" echoed Rose, her sweet faceglowing like her own name-flower."But I was always happy, you know,dear. Now it is happiness, withfairyland thrown in. I am somewonderful creature, walking throughmiracles; a kind of Who was the fairy-knight you were telling me about "

"Lohengrin " said Hildegarde. "No, youare more like Una, in the 'FaerieQueene.' In fact, I think you are Una."

"And then," continued Rose, "there isanother thing! At least, there are athousand other things, but one that Iwas thinking of specially just now,when you named the trees. That wasonly play to you; but, Hilda, it used tobe almost quite real for me, that sort ofthing. Sitting there as I used, day afterday, year after year, mostly alone, formother and Bubble were always atwork, you know, you cannot imaginehow real all the garden-people, as Icalled them, were to me. Why, myEglantine I never told you aboutEglantine, Hilda!"

"No, heartless thing! you never did,"said Hildegarde; "and you may tell me

this instant. A pretty friend you are,keeping things from me in that way!"

"She was a fair maiden," said Rose."She stood against the wall, just by mywindow. She was very lovely andgraceful, with long, slender arms. Somepeople called her a sweetbrier-bush. Shewas my most intimate friend, and wasalways peeping in at the window andcalling me to come out. When I cameand sat close beside her in my chair, shewould bend over me, and tell me allabout her love-affairs, which gave her agreat deal of trouble."

"Poor thing!" said Hildegarde,sympathetically.

"She had two lovers," continued Rose,dreamily, talking half to herself. "Onewas Sir Scraggo de Cedar, a tall knightin rusty armor, who stood very nearher, and loved her to distraction. Butshe cared nothing for him, and hadgiven her heart to the South Wind, themost fickle and tormenting lover youcan imagine. Sometimes he wasperfectly charming, and wooed her inthe most enchanting manner,murmuring soft things in her ear, andkissing and caressing her, till I almostfell in love with him myself. Then hewould leave her alone, oh! for days anddays, till she drooped, poor thing! andwas perfectly miserable. And then

perhaps he would come again in a fury,and shake and beat her in the mostfrightful manner, tearing her hair out,and sometimes flinging her right intothe arms of poor Sir Scraggo, whoquivered with emotion, but never tookadvantage of the situation. I used to bevery sorry for Sir Scraggo."

"What a shame!" cried Hildegarde,warmly. "Couldn't you make her carefor the poor dear "

"Oh, no!" said Rose. "She was very self-willed, that gentle Eglantine, in spite ofher soft, pretty ways. There was nomoving her. She turned her back asnearly as she could on Sir Scraggo, and

bent farther and farther toward thesouth, stretching her arms out as ifimploring her heartless lover to staywith her. I fastened her back to the wallonce with strips of list, for she wasspoiling her figure by stooping somuch; but she looked so utterlymiserable that I took them off again.Dear Eglantine! I wonder if she missesme."

"I think she was rather a minx, do youknow " said Hildegarde. "I prefer SirScraggo myself."

"Well," replied Rose, "one respected SirScraggo very much indeed; but he wasnot beautiful, and all the De Cedars are

pretty stiff and formal. Then you mustremember he was older than Eglantineand I, ever and ever so much older."

"That does make a difference," saidHildegarde. "Who were some other ofyour garden people, you funniest Rose"

"There was Old Moneybags!" repliedRose. "How I did detest that old man!He was a hideous old thorny cactus, allcovered with warts and knobs andsharp spines. Dear mother was veryproud of him, and she was alwayshoping he would blossom, but he neverdid. He lived in the house in winter, butin spring Mother set him out in the

flower-bed, just beside the doublebuttercup. So when the buttercupblossomed, with its lovely yellow balls,I played that Old Moneybags, who wasan odious old miser, was counting hisgold. Then, when the petals dropped,he piled his money in little heaps, andfinally he buried it. He wasn't veryinteresting, Old Moneybags, but thebuttercups were lovely. Then there wereLarry Larkspur and Miss Poppy. Iwonder No! I don't believe you would."

"What I like about your remarks," saidHildegarde, "is that they are so clear.What do you mean by believing Iwouldn't I tell you I would!"

"Well," said Rose, laughing andblushing, "it really isn't anything; onlywell, I made a little rhyme about LarryLarkspur and Miss Poppy one summer.I thought of it just now; and first Iwondered if it would amuse you, andthen I decided it wouldn't."

"You decided, forsooth!" criedHildegarde. "'"Who are you " said thecaterpillar.' I will hear about LarryLarkspur, if you please, without moredelay."

"It really isn't worth hearing!" said Rose."Still, if you want it you shall have it; solisten!

"Larry Larkspur, Larry Larkspur, Wearsa cap of purple gay; Trim and handylittle dandy, Straight and smirk hestands alway.

"Larry Larkspur, Larry Larkspur, Sawthe Poppy blooming fair; Loved her forher scarlet satin, Loved her for herfringed hair.

"Sent a message by the night-wind:'Wilt thou wed me, lady gay For theheart of Larry Larkspur Beats andburns for thee alway.'

"When the morning 'gan to brighten,Eager glanced he o'er the bed. Lo! thePoppy's leaves had fallen; Bare and

brown her ugly head.

"Sore amazed stood Larry Larkspur,And his heart with grief was big. 'Woeis me! she was so lovely, Who couldguess she wore a wig '"

Hildegarde was highly delighted withthe verses, and clamored for more; butat this moment some one was seencoming toward them through the trees.The some one proved to be Martha,with her sleeves rolled up, beamingmildly through her spectacles. Shecarried a tray, on which were twoglasses of creamy milk and a plate offreshly baked cookies. Such cookies!crisp and thin, with what Martha called

a "pale bake" on them, and justprecisely the right quantity of ginger.

"Miss Rose doesn't look over andabove strong," she explained, as thegirls exclaimed with delight, "and 'twould be a pity for her to eat alone.The cookies is fresh, and maybe they'repretty good."

"Martha," said Hildegarde, as shenibbled a cooky, "you are a saint! Wheredo you keep your aureole, for I am sureyou have one "

"There's a pair of 'em, Miss Hilda,"replied Martha. "They build every yearin the big elm by the back door, and

they do sing beautiful."

CHAPTER IV.

THE DOCTORS.

"My dears," said Miss Wealthy, as theysat down to dinner, the bell rang on thestroke of one, and the girls were bothready and waiting in the parlor, whichpleased the dear old lady very much,"my dears, when I made the littlesuggestions this morning as to howyou should amuse yourselves, I entirelyforgot to mention Dr. Abernethy. Icannot imagine how I should have

forgotten it, but Martha assures me thatI did. Dr. Abernethy is entirely at yourservice in the mornings, but I generallyrequire him for an hour in theafternoon. I am sure Rose will be thebetter for his treatment; and I trust youwill both find him satisfactory, thoughpossibly he may seem to you a littleslow, for he is not so young as he oncewas."

"Dr. Oh, Cousin Wealthy!" exclaimedHildegarde, in dismay. "But we areperfectly well! At least of course, Roseis not strong yet; but she is gainingstrength every day, and we have Dr.Flower's directions. Indeed, we don'tneed any doctor."

Cousin Wealthy smiled. She enjoyed alittle joke as much as any one, and Dr.Abernethy was one of her standingjokes.

"I think, my dear," she said, "that youwill be very glad to avail yourself ofthe Doctor's services when once youknow him. Indeed, I shall make a pointof your seeing him once a day, as arule." Then, seeing that both girls werethoroughly mystified, she added: "Dr.Abernethy is a very distinguishedphysician. He gives no medicine, hisinvariable prescription being a littlegentle exercise. He lives in the stable,my dears, and he has four legs and a

tail."

"Oh! oh! Cousin Wealthy, how couldyou frighten us so!" cried Hildegarde."You must be kissed immediately, as apunishment." She flew around thetable, and kissed the soft cheek, like acrumpled blush rose. "A horse! Howdelightful! Rose, we were wishing thatwe might drive, weren't we And what afunny, nice name! Dr. Abernethy! Hewas a great English doctor, wasn't heAnd I was wondering if some stupidcountry doctor had stolen his name."

"I had rather a severe illness a few yearsago," said Miss Wealthy, "and when Iwas recovering from it my physician

advised me to try driving regularly,saying that he should resign in favor ofDr. Horse. So I bought this excellentbeast, and named him Dr. Abernethy,after the famous physician, whom I hadseen once in London, when I was alittle girl."

"It was he who used to do such queerthings, wasn't it " said Hildegarde. "Didhe do anything strange when you sawhim, Cousin Wealthy "

"Nothing really strange," said MissWealthy, "though it seemed so to methen. He came to see my mother, whowas ill, and bolted first into the roomwhere I sat playing with my doll.

"'Who's this who's this ' he said, in avery gruff voice. 'Little girl! Humph!Tooth-ache, little girl '

"'No, sir,' I answered faintly, beingfrightened nearly out of my wits.

"'Head-ache, little girl '

"'No, sir.'

"'Stomach-ache, little girl '

"'Oh, no, sir!'

"'Then take that!' and he thrust a littlepaper of chocolate drops into my

hand, and stumped out of the room asquickly as he had come in. I thought hewas an ogre at first; for I was onlyseven years old, and had just beenreading 'Jack and the Beanstalk;' but thechocolate drops reassured me."

"What an extraordinary man!"exclaimed Rose. "And was he a verygood doctor "

"Oh, wonderful!" replied Miss Wealthy."People came from all parts of theworld to consult him, and he could noteven go out in the street without beingclutched by some anxious patient. Theyused to tell a funny story about an oldwoman's catching him in this way one

day, when he was in a great hurry, buthe was always in a hurry, and pouringout a long string of symptoms, so fastthat the doctor could not get in a wordedgewise. At last he shouted 'Stop!' soloud that all the people in the streetturned round to stare. The old ladystopped in terror, and Dr. Abernethybade her shut her eyes and put hertongue out; then, when she did so, hewalked off, and left her standing therein the middle of the sidewalk with hertongue out. I don't know whether it istrue, though."

"Oh, I hope it is!" cried Hildegarde,laughing. "It is too funny not to betrue."

"We had a very queer doctor atGlenfield some years ago," said Rose."He must have been just the oppositeof Dr. Abernethy. He was very tall andvery slow, and spoke with the queerestdrawl, using always the longest wordshe could find. I never shall forget hiscoming to our house once whenBubble had the measles. He had come aday or two before, but I had not seenhim. This time, however, I was in theroom. He sat down by the bed, andbegan stroking his long chin. It was thelongest chin I ever saw, nearly as long asthe rest of his face.

"'And is there any amelioration of the

symptoms this morning ' he askedMother, 'ame-e-lioration ' (He was veryfond of repeating any word that hethought sounded well.)

"Poor dear mother hadn't the faintestidea what amelioration was; and shestammered and colored, and said shehadn't noticed any, and didn't think thechild had it. But luckily I was in the'Fifth Reader' then, and had happenedto have 'amelioration' in my spelling-lesson only a few days before; so Ispoke up and said, 'Oh, yes, Dr.Longman, he is a great deal better, andhe is really hungry to-day.'

"'Ah!' said Dr. Longman, 'craves food,

does he cra-aves food!'

"Just then Bubble's patience gave out.He was getting better, and it made himso cross, poor dear! he snapped out, inhis funny way, 'I've got a bile comin' onmy nose, and it hurts like fury!'

"Dr. Longman stooped forward, put onhis spectacles, and looked at the boilcarefully. 'Ah!' he said, 'furunculus,furunculus! Is it ah is it excru-ciating '

"I can't describe the way in which hepronounced the last word. As he said it,he dropped his head, and looked overhis spectacles at Bubble in a way thatwas perfectly irresistible. Bubble gave a

sort of howl, and disappeared underthe bedclothes; and I had a fit ofcoughing, which made Mother veryanxious. Dear mother! she never couldsee anything funny about Dr.Longman."

At this moment Martha entered,bringing the dessert, a wonderfulalmond-pudding, such as only Marthacould make. She stopped a moment,holding the door as if to prevent someone's coming in.

"Here's the Doctor wants terrible tocome in, Mam!" she said. "Will I let him"

"Yes, certainly," said Miss Wealthy,smiling. "Let the good Doctor in!"

The girls looked up in amazement, halfexpecting to see a horse's head appearin the doorway; but instead, a majesticblack "coon" cat, with waving featherytail and large yellow eyes, walkedsolemnly in, and seeing the twostrangers, stopped to observe them.

"My dears, this is the other Doctor!"said Miss Wealthy, bending to caress thenew-comer "Dr. Samuel Johnson, atyour service. He is one of the mostimportant members of the family.Doctor, I hope you will be very friendlyto these young ladies, and not take one

of your absurd dislikes to either ofthem. All depends upon the firstimpression, my dears!" she added, in anundertone, to the girls. "He is forminghis opinion now, and nothing will everalter it."

Quite a breathless pause ensued; whilethe magnificent cat stood motionless,turning his yellow eyes gravely fromone to the other of the girls. At lengthHildegarde could not endure his gazeany longer, and she said hastily butrespectfully, "Yes, sir! I have read'Pilgrim's Progress,' I assure you! read itthrough and through, a number oftimes, and love it dearly."

Dr. Johnson instantly advanced, andrubbing his head against her dress,purred loudly. He then went round toRose, who sat opposite, and made thesame demonstration of good-will toher.

"Dear pussy!" said Rose, stroking himgently, and scratching him behind oneear in a very knowing manner.

Miss Wealthy drew a long breath ofsatisfaction. "It is all right," she said."Martha, he is delighted with the youngladies. Dear Doctor! he shall have somealmond-pudding at once. Bring me hissaucer, please, Martha!"

Martha brought a blue saucer; but MissWealthy looked at it with surprise anddisapproval.

"That is not the Doctor's saucer,Martha," she said. "Is it possible thatyou have forgotten He has always hadthe odd yellow saucer ever since he wasa kitten."

"I'm sorry, Mam," said Martha, gently."Jenny broke the yellow saucer thismorning, Mam, as she was washing itafter the Doctor's breakfast. I'm verysorry it should have happened, Mam."

"Broke the yellow saucer!" cried MissWealthy. Her voice was as soft as ever,

but Hildegarde and Rose both felt as ifthe Russians had enteredConstantinople. There was a momentof dreadful silence, and then MissWealthy tried to smile, and began tohelp to the almond-pudding. "Yes, I amsure you are sorry, Martha!" she said;"Hilda, my dear, a little pudding andprobably Jenny is sorry too. You likethe sauce, dear, don't you We thinkMartha's almond-pudding one of herbest. I should not have minded somuch if it had been any other, but thiswas an odd one, and seemed soappropriate, on account of Hogarth's'Industrious Apprentice' done in brownon the inside. Is it quite sweet enoughfor you, my dear Rose "

This speech was somewhat bewildering;but after a moment Rose succeeded inseparating the part that belonged to her,and said that the pudding was mostdelicious.

"Jenny broke a cup last winter, did shenot, Martha " asked Miss Wealthy.

"A very small cup, Mam," repliedMartha, deprecatingly. "That's all shehas broken since she came. She's young,you know, Mam; and she says thesaucer just slipped out of her hand,and fell on the bricks."

Miss Wealthy shivered a little, as if she

heard the crash of the broken china. "Icannot remember that you have brokenanything, Martha," she said, "in thirtyyears; and you were young when youcame to me. But we will not sayanything more, and I dare say Jenny willbe more careful in future. The puddingis very good, Martha; and that will do,thank you." Martha withdrew, and MissWealthy turned to the girls with a sadlittle smile. "Martha is very exact," shesaid. "A thing of this sort troubles herextremely. Very methodical, my goodMartha!"

"Hildegarde," said Rose, wishing toturn the subject and cheer the spirits oftheir kind hostess, "what did you mean,

just now, by telling Dr. Johnson thatyou had read 'Pilgrim's Progress' I ammuch puzzled!"

Hildegarde laughed. "Oh!" she said, "heunderstood, but I will explain for yourbenefit. When I was a little girl I wasnot inclined to like 'Pilgrim's Progress'at first. I thought it rather dull, andliked the Fairy Book better. I said so toPapa one day; and instead of replying,he went to the bookcase, and takingdown Boswell's 'Life of Johnson,' heread me a little story. I think I can say itin the very words of the book, theymade so deep an impression on me:'Dr. Johnson one day took BishopPercy's little daughter on his knee, and

asked her what she thought of'Pilgrim's Progress.' The child answeredthat she had not read it. 'No!' repliedthe Doctor; 'then I would not give onefarthing for you!' And he set her down,and took no further notice of her.'When Papa explained to me,"continued Hildegarde, laughing, "whata great man Dr. Johnson was, it seemedto me very dreadful that he shouldthink me, or another little girl like me,not worth a farthing. So I set to workwith right good-will at 'Pilgrim'sProgress;' and when I was once fairly inthe story, of course I couldn't put itdown till I had finished it."

"Your father is a very sensible man,"

said Miss Wealthy, approvingly."'Pilgrim's Progress' is an importantpart of a child's education, certainly!Let me give you a little more pudding,Hilda, my dear! No! nor you, RoseThen, if the Doctor is ready, supposewe go into the parlor."

They found the parlor very cool andpleasant, with the blinds, as usual,drawn half-way down. Miss Wealthydrew one blind half an inch lower,compared it with the others, andpushed it up an eighth of an inch.

"And what are you going to do withyourselves this afternoon, girlies " sheasked, settling herself in her armchair,

and smelling of her pansies, which, asusual, stood on the little round table ather elbow.

"Rose must go and lie down at once!"said Hildegarde, decidedly. "She mustlie down for two hours every day atfirst, Dr. Flower says, and one hour byand by, when she is a great dealstronger. And I oh, I shall read to her alittle, till she begins to be sleepy, andthen I shall write to Mamma andwander about. This is such a happyplace, Cousin Wealthy! One does notneed to do anything in particular; it isenough just to be alive and well." Thenshe remembered her manners, andadded: "But isn't there something I can

do for you, Cousin Wealthy Can't Iwrite some notes for you, I often writenotes for Mamma, or wind someworsted, or do something useful I havebeen playing all day, you know."

Miss Wealthy looked pleased. "Thankyou, my dear!" she said warmly. "I shallbe very glad of your help sometimes;but to-day I really have nothing for youto do, and besides, I think the first dayought to be all play. If you can makeyourself happy in this quiet place, thatis all I shall ask of you to-day. I shallprobably take a little nap myself, as Ioften do after dinner, sitting here in mychair."

Obeying Hildegarde's imperative nod,Rose left her seat by the window, halfreluctantly, and moved slowly towardthe door. "It seems wicked to lie downon such a day!" she murmured; "but Isuppose I must."

As she spoke, she heard a faint, a veryfaint sigh from Miss Wealthy. Feelinginstinctively that something was wrong,she turned and saw that the tidy on theback of the chair she had been sittingin had slipped down. She went backquickly, straightened it, patted it a little,and then with an apologetic glance andsmile at the old lady, went to joinHildegarde.

"A very sweet, well-mannered girl!" wasMiss Wealthy's mental comment, as hereyes rested contentedly on the smoothrectangular lines of the tidy. "Two ofthe sweetest girls, in fact, that I haveseen for a good while. Mildred hasbrought up her daughter extremelywell; and when one thinks of it, sheherself has developed in a mostextraordinary manner. A most notableand useful woman, Mildred! Whowould have thought it "

Rose slept in the inner bedroom, whichopened directly out of Hildegarde's,with a curtained doorway between. Itwas a pretty room, and very appropriatefor Rose, as there were roses on the

wall-paper and on the soft gray carpet.Here the ex-invalid, as she began to callherself, lay down on the cool whitebed, in the pretty summer wrapper ofwhite challis, dotted with rosebuds,which had been Mrs. Grahame's partingpresent. Hildegarde put a light shawlover her, and then sat down on thewindow-seat.

"Shall I read or sing, Rosy " she asked.

"Oh! but are you quite sure you don'twant to do something else, dear " askedRose.

"Absolutely sure!" said Hildegarde."Quite positively sure!"

"Then," said Rose, "sing that prettylullaby that you found in the old song-book the other day. So pretty! it is theone that Patient Grissil sings to herbabies, isn't it "

So Hilda sang, as follows:

"'Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,Smiles awake you when you rise. Sleep,pretty wantons, do not cry, And I willsing a lullaby. Rock them, rock them,lullaby.

"'Care is heavy, therefore sleep you; Youare care, and care must keep you. Sleep,pretty wantons, do not cry, And I will

sing a lullaby. Rock them, rock them,lullaby.'"

Hildegarde glanced at the bed, and sawthat Rose's eyes were just closing. Stillhumming the last lines of the lullaby,she cast about in her mind forsomething else; and there came to heranother song of quaint old ThomasDekker, which she loved even morethan the other. She sang softly,

"'Art thou poor, yet hast thou goldenslumbers O sweet Content! Art thourich, yet is thy mind perplexed OPunishment! Dost laugh to see howfools are vexed To add to goldennumbers golden numbers O sweet

Content, O sweet, O sweet Content!

"'Canst drink the waters of the crispedspring O sweet Content! Swim'st thouin wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tearsO Punishment! Then he that patientlyWant's burden bears No burden bears,but is a king, a king. O sweet Content,O sweet, O sweet Content.'"

Once more Hildegarde glanced at thebed; then, rising softly and stillhumming the lovely refrain, she slippedout of the room; for Rose, the "sweetcontent" resting like sunshine on herface, was asleep.

CHAPTER V.

ON THE RIVER.

Hildegarde went softly downstairs, andstood in the doorway for a fewminutes, looking about her. The housewas very still; nothing seemed to bestirring, or even awake, except herself.She peeped into the parlor, and sawCousin Wealthy placidly sleeping in hereasy-chair. At her feet, on a roundhassock, lay Dr. Johnson, also sleepingsoundly. "It is the enchanted palace,"said Hildegarde to herself; "only theprincess has grown old in the hundredyears, but so prettily old! and the prince

would have to be a stately oldgentleman to match her." She went outon the lawn; still there was no sound,save the chirping of grasshoppers andcrickets. It was still the golden prime ofa perfect June day; what would be themost beautiful thing to do where allwas beauty Read, or write letters No!that she could do when the glory hadbegun to fade. She walked about hereand there, "just enjoying herself," shesaid. She touched the white heads ofthe daisies; but did not pick them,because they looked so happy. She puther arms round the most beautiful elm-tree, and gave it a little hug, just tothank it for being so stately andgraceful, and for bending its branches

over her so lovingly. Then a butterflycame fluttering by. It was a CamberwellBeauty, and Hildegarde followed itabout a little as it hovered lazily fromone daisy to another.

"Last year at this time," she said,thinking aloud, "I didn't know what aCamberwell Beauty was. I didn't knowany butterflies at all; and if any one hadsaid 'Fritillary' to me, I should havethought it was something to eat." Thisdisgraceful confession was more thanthe Beauty could endure, and hefluttered away indignant.

"I don't wonder!" said the girl. "Butyou'd better take care, my dear. I know

you now, and I don't think Bubble hasmore than two of your kind in hiscollection. I promised to get all thebutterflies and moths I could for thedear lad, and if you are too superior, Imay begin with you."

At this moment a faint creak fell on herear, coming from the direction of thegarden. "As of a wheelbarrow!" shesaid. "Jeremiah! boat! river! now I knowwhat I was wanting to do." She ranround to the garden; and there, to besure, was Jeremiah, wheeling off a hugeload of weeds.

"Oh, Jeremiah!" said Hildegarde,eagerly, "is the do you think the boat is

safe "

Jeremiah put down his load and lookedat her with sad surprise. "The boat " herepeated. "She's all safe! I was down tothe wharf this mornin'. Nobody's hadher out, 's I know of."

"Oh, I didn't mean that!" saidHildegarde, laughing. "I mean, is shesafe for me to go in Miss Bond saidthat I could go out on the river, if yousaid it was all right. Do say it's all right,Jeremiah!"

Jeremiah never smiled, but his

melancholy lightened several shades."She's right enough," he said, "the boat.She isn't hahnsome, but she's stiddy 's arock. She don't like boats, any way o' theworld, but I'll take ye down and get herout for ye."

Rightly conjecturing that the last "her"referred to the boat, Hildegarde gladlyfollowed the Ancient Mariner down thepath that sloped from the garden,through a green pasture, round to theriver-bank. Here she found the boat-house, whose roof she had seen fromher window, and a gray wharf withmoss-grown piers. The tide was high,and it took Jeremiah only a few minutesto pull the little green boat out, and set

her rocking on the smooth water.

"Oh, thank you!" said Hildegarde. "Iam so much obliged!"

"No need ter!" responded Jeremiah,politely. "Ye've handled a boat before,have ye "

"Oh, yes," she said. "I don't think Ishall have any trouble." And as shespoke, she stepped lightly in, andseating herself, took the oars that hehanded her. "And which is the prettiestway to row, Jeremiah, up river, or down"

Jeremiah meditated. "Well," he said, "I

don't hardly know as I can rightly tell.Some thinks one way's pooty; somethinks t' other. Both of 'em 's sightly, tomy mind."

"Then I shall try both," saidHildegarde, laughing. "Good-by,Jeremiah! I will bring the boat backsafe."

The oars dipped, and the boat shot offinto midstream. Jeremiah looked after ita few minutes, and then turned backtoward the house. "She knows whatshe's about!" he said to himself.

Near the bank the water had been aclear, shining brown, with the pebbles

showing white and yellow through it;but out here in the middle of the riverit was all a blaze and ripple and sparkleof blue and gold. Hildegarde rested onher oars, and sat still for a few minutes,basking in the light and warmth; butsoon she found the glory too strong,and pulled over to the other side, wherehigh steep banks threw a shadow onthe water. Here the water was very deep,and the rocks showed as clear andsharp beneath it as over it. Hildegarderowed slowly along, sometimestouching the warm stone with herhand. She looked down, and saw littleminnows and dace darting about, hereand there, up and down. "Howpleasant to be a fish!" she thought.

"There comes one up out of the water.Plop! Did you get the fly, old fellow

"'They wriggled their tails; In the sunglanced their scales.'"

Then she tried to repeat "SaintAnthony's Sermon to the Fishes," ofwhich she was very fond.

"Sharp-snouted pikes, Who keepfighting like tikes, Now swam upharmonious To hear Saint Antonius.No sermon beside Had the pikes soedified."

Presently something waved in theshadow, something moving, among the

still reflections of the rocks. Hildegardelooked up. There, growing in a crannyof the rock above her, was a cluster ofpurple bells, nodding and swaying onslender thread-like stems. They were sobeautiful that she could only sit stilland look at them at first, with eyes ofdelight. But they were so friendly, andnodded in such a cheerful way, that shesoon felt acquainted with them.

"You dears!" she cried; "have you beenwaiting there, just for me to come andsee you "

The harebells nodded, as if there wereno doubt about it.

"Well, here I am!" Hildegardecontinued; "and it was very nice of youto come. How do you like living on therock there He must be very proud ofyou, the old brown giant, and I dare sayyou enjoy the water and the lights andshadows, and would not stay in thewoods if you could. If I were a flower,I should like to be one of you, I think.Good-by, dear pretties! I should like totake you home to Rose, but it would bea wickedness to pick you."

She kissed her hand to the friendlyblossoms, and they nodded a pleasantgood-by, as she floated slowly downstream. A little farther on, she came to apoint of rock that jutted out into the

river; on it a single pine stood leaningaslant, throwing a perfect double ofitself on the glassy water. Hildegarderested in the shadow. "To be in a boatand in a tree at the same moment," shethought, "is a thing that does nothappen to every one. Rose will notbelieve me when I tell her; yet here arethe branches all around me, perfect,even to the smallest twig. Query, am I abird or a fish Here is actually a nest inthe crotch of these branches, but I fearI shall find no eggs in it." Turning thepoint of rock, she found on the otherside a fairy cove, with a tiny patch ofsilver sand, and banks of fern comingto the water's edge on either side. Someof the ferns dipped their fronds in the

clear water, while taller ones peepedover their heads, trying to catch aglimpse of their own reflection.

Hildegarde's keen eyes roved amongthe green masses, seeking the differentvarieties, botrychium, lady-fern, delicatehart's-tongue; behind these, greatnodding ostrich-ferns, bending theirstately plumes over their lowlier sisters;beyond these again a tangle of brakerunning up into the woods. "Why, it is afern show!" she thought. "This must bethe exhibition room for the wholeforest. Visitors will please not touch thespecimens!"

She pulled close to the bank. Instantly

there was a rustle and a flutter amongthe ferns; a little brown bird flew out,and perching on the nearest tree,scolded most violently. Very carefullyHildegarde drew the ferns aside, and lo!a wonderful thing, a round nest, neatlybuilt of moss and tiny twigs; and in itfour white eggs spotted with brown.

"It is too good to be true," thought thegirl. "I am asleep, and I shall wake in amoment. I haven't done anything todeserve seeing this. Rose is goodenough; I wish she were here."

But the little brown bird was by thistime in a perfect frenzy of maternalalarm; and very reluctantly, with an

apology to the angry matron,Hildegarde let the ferns swing backinto place, and pulled the boat awayfrom the bank. On the whole, it seemedthe most beautiful thing she had everseen; but everything was so beautiful!

The girl's heart was very full of joy andthankfulness as she rowed along. Lifewas so full, so wonderful, with newwonders, new beauties, opening for herevery day. "Let all that hath life praisethe Lord!" she murmured softly; andthe very silence seemed to fill with loveand praise. Then her thoughts wentback to the time, a little more than ayear ago, when she neither knew norcared about any of these things; when

"the country" meant to her a summerwatering-place, where one went for twoor three months, to wear the prettiestof light dresses, and to ride and driveand walk on the beach. Her one idea oflife was the life of cities, of one city,New York. A country-girl, if she everthought of such a thing, meant simplyan ignorant, coarse, common girl, whohad no advantages. No advantages! andshe herself, all the time, did not knowone tree from another. She had beenthe cleverest girl in school, and shecould not tell a robin's note from avireo's; as for the wood-thrush, she hadnever heard of it. A flower to hermeant a hot-house rose; a bird was abird; a butterfly was a butterfly. All

other insects, the whole winged hostthat fills the summer air with life andsound, were included under two heads,"millers" and "bugs."

"No, not quite so bad as that!" she criedaloud, laughing, though her cheeksburned at her own thoughts. "I didknow bees and wasps, and I think Iknew a dragon-fly when I saw him."

But for the rest, there seemed little tosay in her defence. She was just likePeter Bell, she thought; and sherepeated Wordsworth's lines,

"A primrose by a river's brim A yellowprimrose was to him, And it was

nothing more."

Here was this little brown bird, forexample. Bird and song and eggs, alltogether could not tell her its name. Shedrew from her pocket a little brownleather note-book, and wrote in it,"Four white eggs, speckled with brown;brown bird, small, nest of fine twigs,on river-bank;" slipped it in her pocketagain, and rowed on, feeling better.After all, it was so very much better toknow that one had been a goose, thannot to know it! Now that her eyes wereonce open, was she not learningsomething new every day, almost everyhour

She rowed on now with long strokes,for the bank was steep and rocky again,and there were no more fairy coves.Soon, however, she came to an island, alittle round island in the middle of theriver, thickly covered with trees. Thiswas a good place to turn back at, forRose would be awake by this time andlooking for her. First, however, shewould row around the island, andconsider it from all sides.

The farther side showed an opening inthe trees, and a pretty little dell, shadedby silver birches, a perfect place for apicnic, thought Hildegarde. She wouldbring Rose here some day, if goodMartha would make them another

chicken-pie; perhaps Cousin Wealthywould come too. Dear Cousin Wealthy!how good and kind and pretty she was!One would not mind growing old, ifone could be sure of being good andpretty, and having everybody love one.

At this moment, as Hildegarde turnedher boat up river, something veryastonishing happened. Not ten yardsaway from her, a huge body shot upout of the water, described a glitteringarc, and fell again, disappearing with asplash which sent the spray flying in alldirections and made the rocks echo.Hildegarde sat quite still for severalminutes, petrified with amazement, and,it must be confessed, with fear. Who

ever heard of such a thing as this A fishWhy, it was as big as a young whale!Only whales didn't come up rivers, andshe had never heard of their jumpingout of water in this insane way.Suppose the creature should take it intohis head to leap again, and should fallinto the boat At this thought ourheroine began to row as fast as shecould, taking long strokes, and makingthe boat fairly fly through the water;though, as she said to herself, it wouldnot make any difference, if her enemywere swimming in the same direction.

Presently, however, she heard a secondsplash behind her, and turning, saw thehuge fish just disappearing, at some

distance down river. She recovered hercomposure, and in a few minutes wasready to laugh at her own terrors.

Homeward now, following the westbank, as she had gone down along theeast. This side was pretty, too, thoughthere were no rocks nor ferny coves.On the contrary, the water was quiteshallow, and full of brown weeds,which brushed softly against the boat.Not far from the bank she saw thehighway, looking white and dusty, withthe afternoon sun lying on it. "No duston my road!" she said exultingly; "andno hills!" she added, as she saw awagon, at some distance, climbing analmost perpendicular ascent. "I wonder

what these water-plants are! Rose wouldknow, of course."

Now came the willows that she hadseen from the window, the "marginwillow-veiled" that had reminded herof the Lady of Shalott. It was pleasantto row under them, letting the cool,fragrant leaves brush against her face.Here, too, were sweet-scented rushes,of which she gathered an armful forRose, who loved them; and in this placeshe made the acquaintance of amagnificent blue dragon-fly, whichalighted on her oar as she lifted it fromthe water, and showed no dispositionto depart. His azure mail glittered in thesunlight; his gauzy wings, as he furled

and unfurled them deliberately, werelike cobwebs powdered with snow. Heevidently expected to be admired, andHildegarde could not disappoint him.

"Fair sir," she said courteously, "I doubtnot that you are the Lancelot ofdragon-flies. Your armor is the finest Iever saw; doubtless, it has beenpolished by some lily maid of a whitebutterfly, or she might be a peach-blossom moth, daintiest of all wingedcreatures. The sight of you fills myheart with rapture, and I fain wouldgaze on you for hours. Natheless, fairknight, time presses, and if you wouldremove your chivalrous self from myunworthy oar, really not a fit place for

your knighthood, I should get onfaster."

Sir Lancelot deigning no attention tothis very civil speech, she splashed herother oar in the water, and exclaimed,"Hi!" sharply, whereupon the gallantknight spread his shining wings anddeparted in wrath.

And now the boat-house was near, andthe beautiful, beautiful time was over.Hildegarde took two or three quickstrokes, and then let the boat drift ontoward the wharf, while she leaned idlyback and trailed her hand in the clearwater. It had been so perfect, so lovely,she was very loath to go on shore

again. But the thought of Rose came,sweet, patient Rose, wondering whereher Hilda was; and then she rowedquickly on, and moored the boat, andclambered lightly up the wharf.

"Good-by, good boat!" she cried."Good-by, dear beautiful river! I shallsee you to-morrow, the day after, everyother day while I am here. I have beenhappy, happy, happy with you. Good-by!" And with a final wave of her hand,Hildegarde ran lightly up the path thatled to the house.

CHAPTER VI.

A MORNING DRIVE.

Punctually at ten o'clock the nextmorning Dr. Abernethy stood beforethe door, with a neat phaeton behindhim; and the girls were summonedfrom the piazza, where Rose was takingher French lesson.

"My dears," said Miss Wealthy, "are youready You said ten o'clock, and theclock has already struck."

"Oh, yes, Cousin Wealthy!" criedHildegarde, starting up, and droppingone book on the floor and another onthe chair. "We are coming immediately.

Rose, nous allons faire une promenade envoiture! Repetez cette phrase!"

"Nous allong " began Rose, meekly; butshe was cut short in her repetition.

"Not allong, dear, allons, ons. Keep yourmouth open, and don't let your tonguecome near the roof of your mouthafter the ll. Allons! Try once more."

"You need not wait, Jeremiah," saidMiss Wealthy, in a voice that tried not tobe plaintive. "I dare say the young ladieswill be ready in a minute or two, and Iwill stand by the Doctor till they come."

Hildegarde heard, smote her breast,

flew upstairs for their hats and a shawland pillow for Rose. In three minutesthey were in the carriage, but not till akiss and a whispered apology fromHildegarde had driven the slight cloudnot of vexation, but of wonderingsadness; it seemed such a strange thing,not to be ready and waiting when Dr.Abernethy came to the door from MissWealthy's kind face.

"Good-by, dear Cousin Wealthy!" and"Good-by, dear Miss Bond!" cried thetwo happy girls; and off they drove inhigh spirits, while Miss Wealthy wentback to the piazza and picked up theFrench books, wiped them carefully,and then went upstairs and put them in

the little bookcase in Hildegarde'sroom.

"She is a very dear girl," she said,shaking her head; "a little heedless, butperhaps all girls are. Why, Mildred oh!but Mildred was an exception. Isuppose," she added, "they call me anold maid. Very likely. Not these girls,for they are too well-mannered, butpeople. An old maid!" Miss Wealthysighed a little, and put her hand up tothe pansy breastpin, a favorite gestureof hers; and then she went into thehouse, to make a new set of bags forthe curtain-tassels.

Meanwhile the girls were driving along,

looking about them, and enjoyingthemselves immensely. Jeremiah hadgiven them directions for a drive "justabout so long," and they knew that theywere to turn three times to the left andnever to the right. And first they wentup a hill, from the top of which theysaw "all the kingdoms of the earth," asRose said. The river valley was behindthem, and they could see the silverstream here and there, gleamingbetween its wooded banks. Beyondwere blue hills, fading into the blue ofthe sky. But before them oh! beforethem was the wonder. A vast circle, hilland dale and meadow, all shut in byblack, solemn woods; and beyond thewoods, far, far away, a range of

mountains, whose tops gleamed whitein the sunlight.

"There is snow on them," said Rose."Oh, Hildegarde! they must be theWhite Mountains. Jeremiah told methat we could see them from here. Thathighest peak must be MountWashington. Oh, to think of it!"

They sat in silence for a few moments,watching the mountains, which lay likegiants at rest.

"Rose," said Hildegarde, at length, "theGreat Carbuncle is there, hidden insome crevice of those mountains; andthe Great Stone Face is there, and oh!

so many wonderful things. Some daywe will go there, you and I; sometimewhen you are quite, quite strong, youknow. And we will see the Flume andthe wonderful Notch. You rememberHawthorne's story of the 'AmbitiousGuest' I think it is one of the mostbeautiful of all. Perhaps who knows wemay find the Great Carbuncle." Theywere silent again; but presently Dr.Abernethy, who cared nothing whateverabout mountains or carbuncles,whinnied, and gave a little impatientshake.

"Of course!" said Hildegarde. "Poordear! he was hot, wasn't he and the fliesbothered him. Here is our turn to the

left; a pine-tree at the corner, yes, thismust be it! Good-by, mountains! Besure to stay there till the next time wecome."

"What was that little poem about theGreek mountains that you told me theother day " asked Rose, as they drovealong, "the one you have copied in yourcommonplace book. You said it was atranslation from some modern Greekpoet, didn't you "

"Yes," said Hildegarde; "but I don'tknow what poet. I found it in a bookof Dr. Felton's at home."

She thought a moment, and then

repeated the verses,

"'Why are the mountains shadowed o'erWhy stand they darkened grimly Is it atempest warring there, Or rain-stormbeating on them

"'It is no tempest warring there, Norain-storm beating on them, ButCharon sweeping over them, And withhim the departed.'"

"Look!" she cried, a few moments after."There is just such a cloud-shadowsweeping over that long hill on the left.Is it true, I wonder I never see thoseflying shadows without thinking of'Charon sweeping over them.' It is such

a comfort, Rose, that we like the samethings, isn't it "

"Indeed it is!" said Rose, heartily. "But,oh! Hilda dear, stop a moment! There issome yellow clover. Why, I had no ideait grew so far north as this!"

"Yellow clover!" repeated Hildegarde,looking about her. "Who ever heard ofyellow clover I don't see any."

"No, dear," said Rose; "it does not growin the sides of buggies, nor even onstone-walls. If you could bend yourlofty gaze to the ditch by the roadside,you might possibly see it."

"Oh, there!" said Hildegarde, laughing."Take the reins, Miss Impudence, and Iwill get them." She sprang lightly out,and returned with a handful of yellowblossoms.

"Are they really clover " she asked,examining them curiously. "I had noidea there were more than two kinds,red and white."

"There are eight kinds, child of thecity," said Rose, "beside melilot, whichis a kind of clover-cousin. This yellowis the hop-clover. Dear me! how it doesremind me of my Aunt Caroline."

"And how, let me in a spirit of love

inquire, does it resemble your AuntCaroline Is she yellow "

"She was, poor dear!" replied Rose."She has been dead now oh! a longtime. She was an aunt of Mother's; andonce she had the jaundice, and it seemsto me she was always yellow after that.But that was not all, Hilda. There wasan old handbook of botany amongFather's books, and I used to read it agreat deal, and puzzle over the longwords. I always liked long words, evenwhen I was a little wee girl. Well, oneday I was reading, and Aunt Carolinehappened to come in. She despisedreading, and thought it was an utterwaste of time, and that I ought to sew

or knit all the time, since I could nothelp Mother with the housework. Shewas very practical herself, and a famoushousekeeper. So she looked at me, andfrowned, and said, 'Well, Pink,mooning away over a book as usualUseless rubbish! yer ma'd ought to keepye at work.' I didn't say anything; Inever said much to Aunt Caroline,because I knew she didn't like me, andI suppose I was rather spoiled by everyone else being too good to me. But Ilooked down at my old book, whichwas open at 'Trefolium: Clover.' Andthere I read oh, Hilda, it is really toobad to tell! I read: 'The teeth bristle-form' and hers did stick out nearlystraight! 'corolla mostly withering or

persistent; the claws' and then I beganto laugh, for it was exactly like AuntCaroline herself; she was so withering,and so persistent! And I sat there andgiggled, a great girl of thirteen, till I gotperfectly hysterical. The more I laughed,the angrier she grew, of course; till atlast she went out into the kitchen andslammed the door after her. But I heardher telling Mother that that gal of hersappeared to be losing such wits as shehad, not that 't was any great loss, as furas she could see. Wasn't that dreadful,Hildegarde Of course I was wheeledover to her house the next day, andbegged her pardon; but she was stillwithering and persistent, though shesaid, 'Very excusable!' at last."

"Why, Rose!" said Hildegarde, laughing."I didn't suppose you were ever naughty,even when you were a baby."

"Oh, indeed I was!" answered Rose;"just as naughty as any one else, Isuppose. Did I ever tell you how I camenear making poor Bubble deaf Thatwasn't exactly naughty, because I didn'tmean to do anything bad; but it wasfunny. I must have been about fiveyears old, and I used to sit in a sort oflittle chair-cart that Father made for me.One day Mother was washing, and sheset me down beside the baby's cradle(that was Bubble, of course), and toldme to watch him, and to call her if he

cried. Well, for a while, Mother said, allwas quiet. Then she heard Baby fret alittle, and then came a queer sort ofnoise, she could not tell what, and afterthat quiet again. So she thought what anice, helpful little girl I was getting tobe; and when she came in she said,'Well, Pinkie, you stopped the baby'sfretting, didn't you '

"'Oh, yes, Mother!' I said, as pleased aspossible. 'I roared in his ear!' You mayimagine how frightened Mother was;but fortunately it did him no harm."

Here the road dipped down into agully, and Dr. Abernethy had to pick hisway carefully among loose stones.

Presently the stone-walls gave place to amost wonderful kind of fence, a kindthat even country-bred Rose had neverseen before. When the great trees, thegiants of the old forest, had been cut,and the ground cleared for farm-landsand pastures, their stumps had beenpulled up by the roots; and these roots,vast, many-branched, twisted into everyimaginable shape, were locked together,standing edgewise, and tossing theirnaked arms in every direction.

"Oh, how wonderful!" criedHildegarde. "Look, Rose! they are likethe bones of some great monster, agigantic cuttlefish, perhaps. What hugetrees they must have been, to have such

roots as these!"

"Dear, beautiful things!" sighed Rose."If they could only have been left! Isn'tit strange to think of people not caringfor trees, Hilda "

"Yes!" said Hilda, meekly, and blushinga little. "It is strange now; but beforelast year, Rose, I don't believe I everlooked at a tree."

"Oh, before last year!" cried Rose,laughing. "There wasn't any 'before lastyear.' I had never heard of Shelleybefore last year. I had never read aballad, nor a 'Waverley,' nor the'Newcomes,' nor anything. Let's not talk

about the dark ages. You love trees now,I'm sure."

"That I do!" said Hildegarde. "The oakbest of all, the elm next; but I lovethem all."

"The pine is my favorite," said Rose."The great stately king, with his broadarms; it always seems as if an eagleshould be sitting on one of them. Whatwas that line you told me the other day'The pine-tree spreads his dark-greenlayers of shade.' Tennyson, isn't it "

"Yes," replied Hildegarde. "But it was'Cranford' that made me think of it.And it isn't 'pine-tree,' after all. I

looked, and found it was 'cedar.' Mr.Holbrook, you remember, Miss Matty'sold lover, quotes it, when they aretaking tea with him. Dear Miss Matty!do you think Cousin Wealthy is theleast little bit like her, Rose "

"Perhaps!" said Rose, thoughtfully. "Ithink Oh, Hilda, look!" she cried,breaking off suddenly. "What a queerlittle house!"

Hildegarde checked Dr. Abernethy,who had been trotting along quitebriskly, and they both looked curiouslyat the little house on their left, whichcertainly was "queer," a low, unpaintedshanty, gray with age, the shingles

rotting off, and moss growing in thechinks. The small panes of glass werecrusted with dirt, and here and thereone had been broken, and replacedwith brown paper. The front yard was atangle of ribbon-grass and clover; but atuft of straggling flowers here andthere showed that it had once had careand attention. There was no sign of lifeabout the place.

"Rose!" cried Hildegarde, stopping thehorse with a pull of the reins; "it is adeserted house. Do you know that Ihave never seen one in my life I mustpositively take a peep at it, and see whatit is like inside. Take the reins, BonneSilene, while I go and reconnoitre the

position." She jumped out, and makingher way as best she might through thegrassy tangle, was soon gazing in at oneof the windows. "Oh!" she cried, "itisn't deserted, Rose! At least well, someone has been here. But, oh, me! oh, me!What a place! I never, never dreamed ofsuch a place. I "

"What is the matter " cried Rose. "Ifyou don't tell me, I shall jump out!"

"No, you won't!" said Hildegarde."You'd better not, Miss! but oh, dear!who ever, ever dreamed of such a placeMy dear, it is the Abode of Dirt.Squalid is no word for it; squalor isrichness compared to this house. I am

looking sit still, Rose! I am looking intoa room about as big as a comfortablepantry. There is a broken stove in it,and a table, and a stool; and in theroom beyond I can see a bed, at least, Isuppose it is meant for a bed. Oh! whatperson can live here "

"I am coming, Hilda," said Rose. "Theonly question is whether I get out withyour help or without."

"Obstinate Thing!" cried Hildegarde,flying to her assistance. "Well, it shallsee the lovely sight, so it shall. Carefully,now; don't trip on these long grass-loops. There! isn't that a pretty placeNow enjoy yourself, while I get out the

tie-rein, and fasten the good beast to atree."

In hunting for the tie-rein under theseat of the carriage, Hildegardediscovered something else which madeher utter an exclamation of surprise."Luncheon!" she cried. "Rose, my dear,did you know about this basket SaintMartha must have put it in. Turnovers,Rose! sandwiches, Rose! and, I declare,a bottle of milk and a tin cup. Wereever two girls so spoiled as we shall be "

"How kind!" said Rose. "I am not inthe least hungry, but I should like a cup

of milk. Oh, Hildegarde!"

"What now " asked that young woman,returning with the precious basket, andapplying her nose once more to thewindow. "Fresh horrors "

"My dear," said Rose, "look! That is thepantry, that little cupboard, with thedoor hanging by one hinge; and thereisn't anything in it to eat, except threecrackers and an onion."

Both girls gazed in silence at theforlorn scene before them. Then theylooked at each other. Hildegarde gavean expressive little shake to the basket.Rose smiled and nodded; then they

hugged each other a little, which was afoolish way they had when they werepleased. Very cautiously Hildegardepushed the crazy door open, and theystood in the melancholy little hovel. Allwas even dirtier and more squalid thanit had looked from outside; but thegirls did not mind it now, for they hadan idea, which had come perhaps toboth at the same moment. Hilda lookedabout for a broom, and finally foundthe dilapidated skeleton of one. Rose,realizing at once that search for a dusterwould be fruitless, pulled a doublehandful of long grass from the frontyard, and the two laid about them, onevigorously, the other carefully andthoroughly. Dust flew from doors and

windows; the girls sneezed andcoughed, but persevered, till the littleroom at last began to look as if it mightonce have been habitable.

"Now you have done enough, Rosy!"cried Hildegarde. "Sit down on thedoorstep and make a posy, while Ifinish."

Rose, being rather tired, obeyed.Hildegarde then looked for ascrubbing-brush, but finding none, wasobliged to give the little black tablesuch a cleaning as she could with thebroom and bunches of grass. Behindthe house was a lilac-bush, coveredwith lovely fragrant clusters of

blossoms; she gathered a huge bunchof them, and putting them in a brokenpitcher with water, set them in themiddle of the table. Meanwhile Rosehad found two or three peonies andsome sweet-william, and with these andsome ribbon-grass had made quite abrilliant bouquet, which was laid besidethe one cracked plate which thecupboard afforded. On this plate thesandwiches were neatly piled, and theturnovers (all but two, which the girlsate, partly out of gratitude to Martha,but chiefly because they were good)were laid on a cluster of green leaves.As for the milk, that, Hildegardedeclared, Rose must and should drink;and she stood over her till she tilted the

bottle back and drained the last drop.

"Oh, dear!" said Rose, looking sadly atthe empty bottle; "I hope the poorthing doesn't like milk. It couldn't be achild, Hildegarde, could it living hereall alone. And anyhow he or she willhave a better dinner than one onionand " But here she broke off, anduttered a low cry of dismay. "Oh,Hilda! Hilda! look there!"

Hildegarde turned hastily round, andthen stood petrified with dismay; forsome one was looking in at thewindow. Pressed against the little backwindow was the face of an old man, sowithered and wrinkled that it looked

hardly human; only the eyes, bright andkeen, were fixed upon the girls, withwhat they thought was a look of anger.Masses of wild, unkempt gray hairsurrounded the face, and a fragment ofold straw hat was drawn down over thebrows. Altogether it was a wild vision;and perhaps it was not surprising thatthe gentle Rose was terrified, while evenHildegarde felt decidedlyuncomfortable. They stood still for amoment, meeting helplessly the steadygaze of the sharp, fierce eyes; then withone impulse they turned and fled,Hildegarde half carrying hercompanion in her strong arms. Halflaughing, half crying, they reached thecarriage. Rose tumbled in somehow,

Hildegarde flew to unfasten the tie-rein; and the next moment they werespeeding away at quite a surprising rate,Dr. Abernethy having, for the first timein years, received a smart touch of thewhip, which filled him with amazementand indignation.

Neither of the girls spoke until at leasta quarter of a mile lay between themand the scene of their terror; then, asthey came to the foot of a hill,Hildegarde checked the good horse toa walk, and turned and looked at Rose.One look, and they both broke into fitsof laughter, and laughed and laughedas if they never would stop.

"Oh!" cried Hildegarde, wiping thetears which were rolling down hercheeks. "Rose! I wonder if I looked asguilty as I felt. No wonder he glowered,if I did."

"Of course you did," said Rose. "Youwere the perfect ideal of a FemaleBurgler, caught with the spoons in herhand; and I oh! my cheeks are burningstill; I feel as if I were nothing but ablush. And after all, we were breakingand entering, Hilda!"

"But we did no harm!" said Hilda,stoutly. "I don't much care, now we aresafe out of the way. And I'm glad thepoor old glowering thing will have a

good dinner for once. Rose, he must beat least a hundred! Did you ever seeanything look so old "

Rose shook her head meditatively. "It'sdreadful to think of his living all alonethere," she said. "For he must be alone.There was only one plate, you know,and that wretched bed. Oh, Hilda!" sheadded, a moment later, "the basket! wehave left the basket there. What shall wedo Must we go back "

"Perish the thought!" cried Hildegarde,with a shudder half real, half playful."I wouldn't go back there now for thehalf of my kingdom. Let me see! Wewill not tell Cousin Wealthy to-day "

"Oh, no!" cried Rose, shrinking at thebare thought.

"Nor even to-morrow, perhaps,"continued Hildegarde. "She would befrightened, and might expect you to beill; we will wait a day or two before wetell her. But Martha is not nervous. Wecan tell her to-morrow, and say that wewill get another basket. After all, wewere doing no harm, none in theworld."

But the best-laid plans, as we all know,"gang aft agley;" and the girls were notto have the telling of their adventure intheir own way.

That evening, as they were sitting onthe piazza after tea, they heard MissWealthy's voice, saying, "Martha, thereis some one coming up the front walk,an aged man, apparently. Will you seewho it is, please Perhaps he wants food,for I see he has a basket."

Hildegarde and Rose looked at eachother in terror.

"Oh, Hilda!" whispered Rose, catchingher friend's hand, "it must be he! Whatshall we do "

"Hush!" said Hildegarde. "Listen, anddon't be a goose! Do what should he

do to us He might recite the 'Curse ofKehama,' but it isn't likely he knows it."

Martha, who had been reconnoitringthrough a crack of the window-blind,now uttered an exclamation. "Well, ofall! Mam, it's old Galusha Pennypacker,as sure as you stand there."

"Is it possible " said Miss Wealthy, in atone of great surprise. "Martha, youmust be mistaken. Galusha Pennypackercoming here. Why should he come here "

But for once Martha was not ready toanswer her mistress, for she had goneto open the door.

The girls listened, with clasped handsand straining ears.

"Why, Mr. Pennypacker!" they heardMartha say. "This is never you "

Then a shrill, cracked voice broke in,speaking very slowly, as if speech werean unaccustomed effort. "Is there twogals here "

"Two gals " repeated Martha, inamazement. "What two gals "

"Gals!" said the old man's voice, "oneon 'em highty-tighty, fly-away-lookin','n' the other kind o' 'pindlin'; drivin'your hoss, they was."

"Why yes!" said Martha, more and moreastonished. "What upon earth "

"Here's their basket!" the old mancontinued; "tell 'em I relished thevictuals. Good-day t' ye!"

Then came the sound of a stick on thesteps, and of shuffling feet on thegravel; and the next moment MissWealthy and Martha were gazing at theguilty girls with faces of muteamazement and inquiry which almostupset Hildegarde's composure.

"It's true, Cousin Wealthy!" she saidquickly. "We meant to tell you in a little

while, when you would not be worried.We thought the house was deserted,and I went and looked in at thewindow. And it looked so wretched, wethought we might "

"There was only an onion and threecrackers," murmured Rose, indeprecating parenthesis.

"We thought we might leave part ofour luncheon, for Martha had given ussuch a quantity; and just when we hadfinished, we saw a face at the windowoh, such a dreadful old face! and we ranaway, and forgot the basket. So you see,Martha," she added, "it was partly yourfault, for giving us so much luncheon."

"I see!" said Martha, chuckling, andapparently much amused.

But Miss Wealthy looked reallyfrightened. "My dear girls," she said, "itwas a very imprudent thing to do. Why,Galusha Pennypacker is half insane,people think. A dreadful old miser,who lives in filth and wretchedness,while he has plenty of money hiddenaway, at least people say he has. Why, itterrifies me to think of your going intothat hovel."

"Oh! Cousin Wealthy," said Hildegarde,soothingly, "he couldn't have hurt us,poor old thing! if he had tried. He

looks at least a hundred years old. Andof course we didn't know he was amiser. But surely it will do no harm forhim to have a good dinner for once,and Martha's turnovers ought really tohave a civilizing effect upon him. Whoknows Perhaps it may make himremember nicer ways, and he may try todo better."

Miss Wealthy was partly reconciled bythis view of the case; but she declaredthat Rose must go to bed at once, asshe must be quite exhausted.

At this moment Martha, who was stillholding the basket, gave an exclamationof surprise. "Why," she said, "there's

things in this! Did you leave these inthe basket, Miss Hilda "

"I No!" cried Hildegarde, wondering. "Ileft nothing at all in it. What is there "

All clustered eagerly round Martha,who with provoking deliberation tookout two small parcels which lay in thebottom of the basket, and looked themcarefully over before opening them.They were wrapped in dirty scraps ofbrown paper.

"Oh! there is writing on them!" criedHildegarde. "Martha dear, do tell uswhat it says!"

Martha studied the inscriptions forsome minutes, and then read aloud:"'The fly-away gal' and 'the pail gal.'Well, of all!" she cried, "it's presents, Ido believe. Here, Miss Hilda, this mustbe for you."

Hildegarde opened the little parceleagerly. It contained a small shagreencase, which in its turn proved tocontain a pair of scissors of antiqueand curious form, an ivory tablet,yellow with age, a silver bodkin, and asilver fruit-knife, all fitting neatly intheir places; the whole case closing witha spring. "It is the prettiest thing I eversaw!" cried Hildegarde. "See, CousinWealthy, isn't it delightful to think of

that poor old dear But what have you,Rose-red You must be the 'pail gal,' ofcourse, though you are not pale now."

Rose opened her parcel, and found, in atiny box of faded morocco, an ivorythimble exquisitely carved with minuteChinese figures. It fitted her slenderfinger to perfection, and she gazed at itwith great delight, while Miss Wealthyand Martha shook their heads inamazement and perplexity.

"Galusha Pennypacker, with suchthings as these!" cried one.

"Galusha Pennypacker makingpresents!" exclaimed the other. "Well,

wonders will never cease!"

"The thimble is really beautiful!" saidMiss Wealthy. "He was a seafaring manin his youth, I remember, and he musthave brought this home from one ofhis voyages, perhaps fifty or sixty yearsago. Dear me! how strangely things docome about! But, my dear Rose, youreally must go to bed at once, for I amsure you must be quite exhausted."

And the delighted girls went off intriumph with their treasures, to chatterin their rooms as only girls can chatter.

CHAPTER VII.

A "STORY EVENING."

The next evening was chilly, and insteadof sitting on the piazza, the girls wereglad to draw their chairs around MissWealthy's work-table and bring outtheir work-baskets. Hildegarde hadbrought two dozen napkins with her tohem for her mother, and Rose wasknitting a soft white cloud, which wasto be a Christmas present for good Mrs.Hartley at the farm. As for MissWealthy, she, as usual, was knitting graystockings of fine soft wool. They all fellto talking about old GalushaPennypacker, now pitying his misery,

now wondering at the tales of hisavarice. Hildegarde took out the littlescissors-case, and examined it anew."Do you suppose this belonged to hismother " she asked. "You say he nevermarried. Or had he a sister "

"No, he had no sister," replied MissWealthy. "His mother was a veryrespectable woman. I remember her,though she died when I was quite alittle girl. He had an aunt, too, asingular woman, who used to be verykind to me. What is it, my dear " ForHildegarde had given a little cry ofsurprise.

"Here is a name!" cried the girl. "At

least, it looks like a name; but I cannotmake it out. See, Cousin Wealthy, onthe little tablet! Oh, how interesting!"

Miss Wealthy took the tablet, whichconsisted of two thin leaves of ivory,fitting closely together. On the insideof one leaf was written in pencil, in atremulous hand. "Ca-ira."

"Is it a name " asked Rose.

Miss Wealthy nodded. "His aunt'sname," she said, "Ca-iry[1]Pennypacker. Yes, surely; this must havebelonged to her. Dear, dear! howstrangely things come about! Aunt Ca-iry we all called her, though she was no

connection of ours. And to think ofyour having her scissors-case! Now Icome to remember, I used to see this inher basket when I used to poke overher things, as I loved to do. Dear, dear!"

"Oh, Cousin Wealthy," criedHildegarde, "do tell us about her, please!How came she to have such a queername I am sure there must be somedelightful story about her."

Miss Wealthy considered a minute, thenshe said: "My dear, if you will open thefourth left-hand drawer of that chestbetween the windows, and look in thefarther right-hand corner of thedrawer, I think you will find a roll of

paper tied with a pink ribbon."

Hildegarde obeyed in wonderingsilence; and Miss Wealthy, taking theroll, held it in her hand for a momentwithout speaking, which was verytrying to the girls' feelings. At last shesaid,

"There is an interesting story about Ca-iry Pennypacker, and, curiously enough,I have it here, written down by whomdo you think your mother, Hilda, mydear!"

"My mother!" cried Hildegarde, inamazement.

"Your mother," repeated Miss Wealthy."You see, when Mildred was a harum-scarum girl " Hildegarde uttered anexclamation, and Miss Wealthy stoppedshort. "Is there something you want tosay, dear " she asked gently. "I willwait."

The girl blushed violently. "I beg yourpardon, Cousin Wealthy," she saidhumbly. "Shall I go out and stand inthe entry Papa always used to make me,when I interrupted."

"You are rather too big for that now,my child," said the old lady, smiling;"and I notice that you very seldominterrupt. It is better never done,

however. Well, as I was saying, yourmother used to make me a great manyvisits in her school holidays; for shewas my god-daughter, and always verydear to me. She was very fond ofhearing stories, and I told her all the oldtales I could think of, among them thisone of Aunt Ca-iry's, which the oldlady had told me herself when I wasperhaps ten years old. It had made adeep impression on me, so that I wasable to repeat it almost in her ownwords, in the country talk she alwaysused. She was not an educated woman,my dear, but one of sterling good senseand strong character. Well, the storyimpressed your mother so much thatshe was very anxious for me to write it

down; but as I have no gift whatever inthat way, she finally wrote it herself,taking it from my lips, as you may say,only changing my name from Wealthyto Dolly, but making it appear as if theold woman herself were speaking. Veryapt at that sort of thing Mildred alwayswas. And now, if you like, my dears, Iwill read you the story."

If they liked! Was there ever a girl whodid not love a story Gray eyes and bluesparkled with anticipation, and therewas no further danger of interruptionas Miss Wealthy, in her soft, clear voice,began to read the story of

CA-IRY AND THE QUEEN.

What's this you've found Well, now!well, now! where did you get that, littlegal Been rummagin' in Aunt Ca-iry'sbureau, hev you Naughty little gal!Bring it to me, honey. Why, that littlebag, I wouldn't part with it for gold!That was give me by a queen, think o'that, Dolly, by a real live queen, 'cordin'to her own idees, the Queen o' Sheba.

Tell you about her Why, yes, I will.Bring your little cheer here by the fire,so; and get your knittin'. When littlegals come to spend the day with AuntCa-iry they allus brings their knittin',don't they 'cause they know they won'tget any story unless they do. I can't have

no idle hands round this kitchen, 'causeSatan might git in, ye know, and findsome mischief for them to do. There!now we're right comf'table, and I'llbegin.

You see, Dolly, I've lived alone most o'my life, as you may say. Mother diedwhen I was fifteen, and Father, hecouldn't stay on without her, so hewent the next year; and my brother wassettled a good way off: so ever sinceI've lived here in the old brown housealone, 'cept for the time I'm goin' to tellye about, when I had a boarder, and aqueer one she was. Plenty o' folks askedme to hire out with them, or boardwith them, and I s'pose I might have

married, if I'd been that kind, but Iwasn't. Never could abide the thoughtof havin' a man gormineerin' over me,not if he was the lord o' the land. AndI was strong, and had a cow and somefowls, and altogether I knew when Iwas well off; and after a while folkslearned to let me alone. "Queer Ca-iry,"they called me, in your grandfather'stime, Dolly, but now it's "Aunt Ca-iry"with the hull country round, andeverybody's very good to the oldwoman.

How did I come to have such a funnyname Well, my father give it to me. Hewas a great man for readin', my fatherwas, and there was one book he

couldn't ever let alone, skurcely. 'T wasabout the French Revolution, and ittold how the French people tried to gitup a republic like ourn. But they hadn'tno sense, seemin'ly, and some of 'emwas no better nor wild beasts, with theirslaughterin', devourin' ways; so nothin'much came of it in the end 'ceptbloodshed.

Well, it seems they had a way of yellin'round the streets, and shoutin' andsingin', "Ca-ira! Ca-ira!" Made a songout of it, the book said, and sang it dayin and day out. Father said it meant"That will go!" or somethin' like that,though I never could see any meanin' init myself. Anyhow, it took Father's fancy

greatly, and when I was born, nothin'would do but I must be christened Ca-ira. So I was, and so I stayed; and Idon't know as I should have done anybetter if I'd been called Susan orJerusha. So that's all about the name,and now we'll come to the story.

One day, when I was about eighteenyears old, I was takin' a walk in thewoods with my dog Bluff. I was veryfond o' walkin', and so was Bluff, andthere was woods all about, twice asmuch as there is now. It was a fine, clearday, and we wandered a long way,further from home than we often went,'way down by Rollin' Dam Falls. Thestream was full, and the falls were a

pretty sight; and I sat lookin' at 'em, asgirls do, and pullin' wintergreen leaves.I never smell wintergreen now withoutthinkin' of that day. All of a suddent Iheard Bluff bark; and lookin' round, Isaw him snuffin' and smellin' about asteep clay bank covered with vines andbrambles. "Woodchuck!" I thought;and I called him off, for I never let himkill critters unless they weremischeevous, which in the wild woodsthey couldn't be, of course. But the dogwouldn't come off. He stayed there,sniffin' and growlin', and at last I wentto see what the trouble was.

My dear, when I lifted up those vinesand brambles, what should I see but a

hole in the bank! a hole about two feetacross, bigger than any that awoodchuck ever made. The edges wererubbed smooth, as if the critter thatmade it was big enough to fit prettyclose in gettin' through. My first ideewas that 't was a wolf's den, wolveswere seen sometimes in those days inthe Cobbossee woods, and I was goin'to drop the vines and slip off as quietas I could, when what does that dog dobut pop into the hole right before myeyes, and go wrigglin' through it! Icalled and whistled, but 't was no use;the dog was bound to see what was inthere.

I waited a minute, expectin' to hear the

wolf growl, and thinkin' my poor Bluffwould be torn to pieces, and yet I mustgo off and leave him, or be treated thesame myself. But, Dolly, instead of awolf's growl, I heard next minute asound that made me start more 'n thewolf would ha' done, the sound of ahuman voice. Yes! out o' the bowels o'the earth, as you may say, a voice wascryin' out, frightened and angry-like;and then Bluff began to bark, bark!Oh, dear! I felt every which way, child.But 't was clear that there was only onepath of duty, and that path led throughthe hole; for a fellow creature was introuble, and 't was my dog makin' thetrouble. Down I went on my face, andthrough that hole I crawled and

wriggled, don't ask me how, for I don'tknow to this day, thinkin' of thesarpent in the Bible all the way.

Suddenly the hole widened, and Ifound myself in a kind of cave, aboutfive feet by six across, but high enoughfor me to stand up. I scrambled to myfeet, and what should I see but awoman, a white woman, sittin' on aheap o' moose and sheep skins, andglarin' at me with eyes like two livecoals. She had driven Bluff off, and hestood growlin' in the corner.

For a minute we looked at each otherwithout sayin' anything; I didn't knowwhat upon airth to say. At last she

spoke, quite calm, in a deep, strangevoice, almost like a man's, but powerfulsweet.

"What seek you," she said, "slave "

Well, that was a queer beginnin', yousee, Dolly, and didn't help me much.But I managed to say, "My dog come in,and I followed him to see what he wasbarkin' at."

"He was barkin' at me," said thewoman. "Bow down before me, slave! Iam the Queen!"

And she made a sign with her hand, socommandin'-like that I made a bow, the

best way I could. But, of course, I sawthen that the poor creature was out ofher mind, and I thought 't would bebest to humor her, seein' as I had comein without an invitation, as you may say.

"Do you do you live here, ma'am " Iasked, very polite.

"Your Majesty!" says she, holdin' up herhead, and lookin' at me as if I was dirtunder her feet.

"Do you live here, your Majesty " Iasked again.

"I am stayin' here," she said. "I amwaitin' for the King, who is comin' for

me soon. You did not meet him, slave,on your way hither "

"What king was your Majesty meanin' "says I.

"King Solomon, of course!" said she."For what lesser king should the Queenof Sheba wait "

"To be sure!" says I. "No, ma'am, yourMajesty, I mean, I didn't meet KingSolomon. I should think you mightfind a more likely place to wait for himin than this cave. A king wouldn't bevery likely to find his way in here,would he "

She looked round with a proud kind o'look. "The chamber is small," she said,"but richly furnished, richly furnished.You may observe, slave, that the wallsare lined with virgin gold."

She waved her hand, and I lookedround too at the yellow clay walls andceilin'. You never could think of such aplace, Dolly, unless you'd ha' seen it.However that poor creature had fixed itup so, no mortal will ever know, Iexpect. There was a fireplace in onecorner, and a hole in the roof over it. Ifound out arterwards that the smokewent out through a hollow tree thatgrew right over the cave. There was afryin'-pan, and some meal in a kind o'

bucket made o' birch-bark, some roots,and a few apples. All round the sidesshe'd stuck alder-berries and flowersand pine-tassels, and I don't know whatnot. There was nothin' like a cheer ortable, nothin' but the heap o' skins shewas settin' on, that was bed and sofyand everything else for her, I reckon.

And she herself oh, dear! it makes mewant to laugh and cry, both together, tothink how that unfortinit creature wasrigged up. She had a sheepskin over hershoulders, tied round her neck, with thewool outside. On her head was a crowno' birch-bark, cut into p'ints like thecrowns in pictures, and stained yellerwith the yeller clay, I suppose she

thought it was gold, and her long blackhair was stuck full o' berries and leavesand things. Under the sheepskin shehad just nothin' but rags, such rags asyou never seed in all your days, Dolly,your mother bein' the tidy body she is.And moccasins on her feet, nostockin's; that finished her Majesty'sdress. Well, poor soul! and she as proudand contented as you please, fancyin'herself all gold and di'monds.

I made up my mind pretty quick whatwas the right thing for me to do; and Isaid, as soothin' as I could,

"Your Majesty, I don't reelly advise youto wait here no longer for King

Solomon. I never seed no kings roundthese woods, it's out o' the line o' kings,as you may say, and I don't think he'dbe likely to find you out, even if heshould stroll down to take a look at thefalls, same as I did. Haven't you noother palace, that's a little more on thetravelled road, where he'd be likely topass "

"No," she said, kind o' mournful, andshakin' her head, "no, slave. I had once,but it was taken from me."

"If you don't mind my bein' so bold," Isaid, "where was you stayin' before youcome here "

"With devils!" she said, so fierce andsudden that Bluff and I both jumped."Speak not of them, lest my wrathdescend upon you."

This wasn't very encouragin'; but Iwasn't a bit frightened, and I set towork again, talkin' and arguin', andkind o' hintin' that there'd been somekings seen round the place where Ilived. That weren't true, o' course, and Iknew I was wrong, Dolly, to misleadthe poor creature, even if 't was for hergood; but I quieted my conscience bythinkin' that 't was true in one way, forHezekiah King and his nine childrenlived not more 'n a mile from my house.

Well, to make a long story short, I e'enpersuaded the Queen o' Sheba to comehome with me, and stay at my house tillKing Solomon turned up. She didn'tmuch relish the idee of staying with aslave, as she would have it I was, but Itold her I didn't work for no one butmyself, and I wasn't no common kindo' slave at all; so at last she give in, poorsoul, and followed me as meek as alamb through the hole, draggin' her bigmoose-skin which was her coronation-robe, she said, and she couldn't leave itbehind after her, and Bluff growlin' ather heels like all possessed.

Well, I got her home, and gave hersome supper, and set her in a cheer; and

you never in all your life see any one sopleased. She looked, and looked, andyou'd ha' thought this kitchen wasMarble Halls like them in the song. Itdid look cheerful and pleasant, butmuch the same as it does now, aftersixty years, little Dolly. And if you'llbelieve it, it's this very arm-cheer as I'msittin' in now, that the Queen o' Shebasot in. It had a flowered chintz coverthen, new and bright. Well, she sat backat last, and drew a long breath.

"You have done well, faithful slave!"she said. "This is my own palace thatyou have brought me to. I know it well,well; and this is my throne, from whichI shall judge the people till the King

comes."

This is what the boys would call "rathercool;" but I only said, "Yes, yourMajesty, you shall judge every one thereis to judge," which was me and Bluff,and Crummy the cow, and ten fowls,and the pig. She was just as pleasantand condescendin' as could be all theevenin', and when I put her to bed inthe fourposter in the spare room, shepraised me again, and said that whenthe King came she would give me acarcanet of rubies, whatever that is.

Just as soon as she was asleep, the firstthing that I did was to open the stoveand put her rags in, piece by piece, till

they was all burnt up. The moose-skin,which was a good one, I hung out onthe line to air. Then I brought out someclothes of Mother's that I'd kep' laidaway, a good calico dress and someunderclothing, all nice and fresh, andlaid them over the back of a cheer byher bed. It seemed kind o' strange to goto bed with a ravin' lunatic, as you maysay, in the next room; but I knew I wasdoin' right, and that was all there was toit. The Lord would see to the rest, Ithought.

Next mornin' I was up bright and early,and soon as I'd made the fire and tidiedup and got breakfast under way, I wentin to see how her Majesty was. She was

wide awake, sittin' up in bed, andlookin' round her as wild as a hawk.Seemed as if she was just goin' tospring out o' bed; but when she sawme, she quieted down, and when Ispoke easy and soothin' like, and askedher how she'd slept, she answeredpleasant enough.

"But where are my robes " said she,pointin' to the clothes I'd laid out."Those are not my robes."

"They's new robes," I said, quite bold."The old ones had to be taken away,your Majesty. They weren't fit for youto wear, really, all but the coronationrobe; and that's hangin' on the line, to

to take the wrinkles out."

Well, I had a hard fight over the clothes;she couldn't make up her mind nohowto put 'em on. But at last I had an idee."Don't you know," I said, "the Biblesays 'The King's Daughter is all radiantwithin, in raiment of wroughtneedlework' Well, this is wroughtneedlework, every bit of it."

I showed her the seams and thestitches; and, my dear, she put it onwithout another word, and was aspleased as Punch when she was dressedup all neat and clean. Then I brushedher hair out, lovely hair it was, comin'down below her knees, and thick

enough for a cloak, but matted andtangled so 't was a sight to behold, andbraided it, and put it up on top of herhead like a sort o' crown, and I tell youshe looked like a queen, if everanybody did. She fretted a little for herbirch-bark crown, but I told her howScripture said a woman's glory was herhair, and that quieted her at once. Poorsoul! she was real good and pious, andshe'd listen to Scripture readin' by thehour; but I allus had to wind up withsomethin' about King Solomon.

Well, Dolly, the Queen o' Sheba stayedwith me (I must make my story short,Honey, for your ma'll be comin' for yesoon now) three years; and I will say

that they was happy years for both ofus. Not yourself could be morebiddable than that poor crazy Queenwas, once she got wonted to me andthe place. At first she was inclined towander off, a-lookin' for the King; butbimeby she got into the way ofoccupyin' herself, spinnin' she was abeautiful spinner, and when I told her 'twas Scriptural, I could hardly get heraway from the wheel and trimmin' thehouse up with flowers, and playin' withBluff, for all the world like a child. Andin the evenin's, well, there! she'd sit onher throne and tell stories about herkingdom, and her gold and spices, andmyrrh and frankincense and things, andall the great things she was goin' to do

for her faithful slave, that was me, yeknow; she never would call meanything else, till it all seemed just asgood as true. 'T was true to her; and if 'thad been really true for me, I shouldn'tha' been half so well off as in my ownsp'ere; so 't was all right.

My dear, my poor Queen might havebeen with me to this day, if it hadn'tbeen for the meddlesomeness of men.I've heerd talk o' women meddling, andvery likely they may, when they livealong o' men; but it don't begin withwomen, nor yet end with 'em. One dayI'd been out 'tendin' to the cow, and asI was comin' back I heerd screams andshrieks, and a man's voice talkin' loud.

You may believe I run, Dolly, as fast asrun I could; and when I came to thekitchen there was Hezekiah King and astrange man standin' and talkin' to theQueen. She was all in a heap behind thebig chair, poor soul, tremblin' like aleaf, and her eyes glarin' like they didthe fust time I see her; and she didn'tsay a word, only scream, like a pantherin a trap, every minute or two.

I steps before her, and "What's this "says I, short enough.

"Mornin', Ca-iry," says Hezekiah,smilin' his greasy smile, that allus didmake me want to slap his face. "This isMr. Clamp, from Coptown. Make ye

acquainted with Miss Ca-iryPennypacker, Mr. Clamp. I met up withMr. Clamp yesterday, Ca-iry, and I wastellin' him about this demented creaturas you've been shelterin' at your ownexpense the last three years, as the hullneighborhood says it's a shame. And lo!how myster'ous is the ways o'Providence! Mr. Clamp is sup'n'tendento' the Poor Farm down to Coptown,and he says this woman is a crazypauper as he has had in keer for sixyear, ever since she lost her wits along o'her husband bein' drownded. She runaway three year ago last spring, and heain't heard nothin' of her till yisterday,when he just chanced to meet up withme. So now he's come as in dooty

bound, she belongin' to the deestrick o'Coptown, to take her off your hands,and thank ye for "

He hadn't no time to say more. I tookhim by the shoulders, I was mortalstrong in those days, Dolly; there wasn'ta man within ten miles but I could ha'licked him if he'd been wuth it, andshot him out o' the door like a sack o'flour. Then I took the other man, whowas standin' with his mouth open, forall the world like a codfish, and shothim out arter him. He tumbled againstHezekiah, and they both went downtogether, and sat there and looked at mewith their mouths open.

"You go home," says I, "and take careo' yourselves, if you know how. When Iwant you or the like o' you, I'll send foryou. Scat!" And I shut the door andbolted it, b'ilin' with rage, and cameback to my poor Queen.

She was down on the floor, all huddledup in a corner, moanin' and moanin',like a dumb beast that has a deathwound. I lifted her up, and tried tosoothe and quiet her, she was tremblin'all over, but 't was hard work. Not aword could I get out of her but "Devil!Devil!" and then "Solomon!" over andover again. I brought the Bible, andread her about the Temple, and theknops and the flowers, and the purple,

and the gold dishes, till she was quietagain; and then I put her to bed, poorsoul! though 't was only six o'clock, andsat and sang "Jerusalem the Golden" tillshe dropped off to sleep. I was b'ilin'mad still, and besides I was afraid she'dhave a fit o' sickness, or turn ravin',after the fright, so I didn't sleep muchmyself that night. Towards mornin',however, I dropped off, and must haveslept sound; for when I woke it wasseven o'clock, the sun was up high, thedoor was swingin' open, and the Queeno' Sheba was gone.

Don't ask me, little Dolly, how I felt,when I found that poor creature wasnowhere on the place. I knew where to

go, though. Something told me, plain aswords; and Bluff and I, we made a bee-line for the Rollin' Dam woods. Thedog found her first. She had tried to getinto her hole, but the earth had cavedin over it; so she had laid down besideit, on the damp ground, in hernightgown. Oh, dear! oh, dear! Howlong she'd been there, nobody will everknow. She was in a kind o' swoon, andI had to carry her most o' the way,however I managed to do it; but I wasmortal strong in those days, and shewas slight and light, for all her bein' tall.When I got her home and laid her inher bed, I knowed she'd never leave it;and sure enough, before night she wasin a ragin' fever. A week it lasted; and

when it began to go down, her lifewent with it. My poor Queen! she wasreal gentle when the fiery heat wasgone. She lay there like a child, so weakand white. One night, when I'd beensingin' to her a spell, she took this littlebag from her neck, where she'd allusworn it, under her clothes, and giv' it tome.

"Faithful slave," she said, she couldn'tspeak above a whisper, "King Solomonis comin' for me to-night. I have had amessage from him. I leave you this as atoken of my love and gratitude. It is theGreat Talisman, more precious thangold or gems. Open it when I am gone.And now, good slave, kiss me, for I

would sleep awhile."

I kissed my poor dear, and she dozedoff peaceful and happy. But all of asudden she opened her eyes with astart, and sat up in the bed.

"Solomon!" she cried, and held out herarms wide. "Solomon, my King!" andthen fell back on the piller, dead.

There, little Dolly! don't you cry, dear!'T was the best thing for the poor thing.I opened the bag, when it was all over,and what do you think I found Anewspaper slip, sayin', "Lost at sea, onMarch 2, 18 , Solomon Marshall,twenty-seven years," and a lock o' dark-

brown hair. Them was the GreatTalisman. But if true love and faith canmake a thing holy, this poor little bag isholy, and as such I've kept it.

There's your ma comin', Dolly. Put onyour bonnet, Honey, quick! And seehere, dear! you needn't tell her nothin' Isaid about Hezekiah King, I cleanforgot he was your grandfather.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] Pronounced Kay-iry.

CHAPTER VIII.

FLOWER-DAY.

"Cousin Wealthy," said Hildegarde atbreakfast the next morning, "may I tellyou what it was that made me so rudeas to interrupt you last night "

"Certainly, my dear," said Miss Wealthy;"you may tell me, and then you mayforget the little accident, as I hadalready done."

"Well," said Hildegarde, "you spoke ofthe time when Mamma was a 'harum-scarum girl;' and the idea of her everhaving been anything of the sort wasso utterly amazing that that was why I

cried out. Is it possible that Mammywas not always quiet and blessed andpeaceful "

"Mildred!" exclaimed Miss Wealthy."Mildred peaceful! My dear Hilda!"

An impressive pause followed, andHildegarde's eyes began to twinkle."Tell us!" she murmured, in a tone thatwould have persuaded an oyster toopen his shell. Then she stroked MissWealthy's arm gently, and was silent, forshe saw that speech was coming in duetime.

Miss Wealthy looked at her teacup, andshook her head slowly, smiled, and then

sighed. "Mildred!" she said again. "Mydear, your mother is now forty yearsold, and I am seventy. When she cameto visit me for the first time, I was fortyyears old, and she was ten. She had on,when she arrived, a gray stuff frock,trimmed with many rows of narrowgreen braid, and a little gray strawbonnet, with rows of quilled satinribbon, green and pink." The girlsexchanged glances of horror andamazement at the thought of thisheadgear, but made no sound. "I shallnever forget that bonnet," continuedMiss Wealthy, pensively, "nor that dress.In getting out of the carriage her skirtcaught on the step, and part of a rowof braid was ripped; this made a loop,

in which she caught her foot, andtumbled headlong to the ground. Imended it in the evening, after she wasin bed, as it was the frock she was towear every morning. My dears, Imended that frock every day for amonth. It is the truth! the braid caughton everything, on latches, on brambles,on pump-handles, on posts, on chairs.There was always a loop of it hanging,and the child was always putting herfoot through it and tumbling down.She never cried, though sometimes,when she fell downstairs, she must havehurt herself. A very brave little girl shewas. At last I took all the braid off, andthen things went a little better."

Miss Wealthy paused to sip her coffee,and Hildegarde tried not to look as ifshe begrudged her the sip. "Then," shewent on, "Mildred was always runningaway, not intentionally, you understand,but just going off and forgetting tocome back. Once dear, dear! it gives mea turn to think of it! she had beenreading 'Neighbor Jackwood,' and wasmuch delighted with the idea of theheroine's hiding in the haystack toescape her cruel pursuers. So she wentout to the great haystack in thebarnyard, pulled out a quantity of hay,crept into the hole, and found it socomfortable that she fell fast asleep.You may imagine, my dears, what myfeelings were when dinner-time came,

and Mildred was not to be found. Thehouse was searched from garret tocellar. Martha and I Martha had justcome to me then went down to thewharf and through the orchard andround by the pasture, calling andcalling, till our throats were sore. Atlast, as no trace of the child could befound, I made up my mind that shemust have wandered away into thewoods and got lost. It was a terriblethought, my dears! I called Enoch, theman, and bade him saddle the horseand ride round to call out theneighbors, that they might all searchtogether. As he was leading the horseout, he noticed a quantity of hay on theground, and wondered how it had

come there. Coming nearer, he saw thehole in the stack, looked in, and therewas the child, fast asleep!"

"Oh! naughty little mother!" criedHildegarde. "What did you do to her,Cousin Wealthy "

"Nothing, my dear," replied the goodlady. "I was quite ill for several daysfrom the fright, and that was enoughpunishment for the poor child. Shenever meant to be naughty, you know.But my heart was in my mouth all thetime. Once, coming home from a walk,I heard a cheery little voice crying,'Cousin Wealthy! Cousin! see where Iam!' I looked up. Hilda, she was sitting

on the ridge-pole of the house, wavingher bonnet by a loop of the pinkquilled ribbon, it was almost as bad asthe green braid about coming off, andsmiling like a cherub. 'I came throughthe skylight,' she said, 'and the air uphere is so fresh and nice! I wish youwould come up, Cousin!'

"Another time oh, that was the worsttime of all! I really thought I should diethat time." Miss Wealthy paused, andshook her head.

"Oh, do go on, dear!" cried Hildegarde;"unless you are tired, that is. It is sodelightful!"

"It was anything but delightful for me,my dear, I can assure you," rejoinedMiss Wealthy. "This happened severalyears later, when Mildred was thirteenor fourteen. She came to me for awinter visit, and I was delighted to findhow womanly she had grown. We had agreat deal of bad weather, and she waswith me in the house a good deal, andwas most sweet and helpful; and as Idid not go out much, I did not seewhat she did out of doors, and shealways came home in time for dinnerand tea. Well, one day it was in March,and the river was just breaking up, aswe had had some mild weather theminister came to see me, and I began totell him about Mildred, and how she

had developed, and how much comfortI took in her womanly ways. He wassitting on the sofa, from which, youknow, one can see the river very well.Suddenly he said, 'Dear me! what is thatSome one on the river at this time! Veryimprudent! Very ' Then he broke offshort, and gave me a strange look. Isprang up and went to the window.What did I see, my dear girls The riverwas full of great cakes of ice, allpressed and jumbled together; thecurrent was running very swiftly; andthere, in the middle of the river,jumping from one cake to another likea chamois, or some such wild creature,was Mildred Bond."

"Oh!" cried Rose, "how dreadful! DearMiss Bond, what did you do "

Hildegarde was silent. It was certainlyvery naughty, she thought; but oh, whatfun it must have been!

"Fortunately," said Miss Wealthy, "Ibecame quite faint at the sight.Fortunately, I say; for I might havescreamed and startled the child, andmade her lose her footing. As it was, theminister went and called Martha, andshe, like the sensible girl she is, simplyblew the dinner-horn as loud as shepossibly could. It was the middle ofthe afternoon; but as she rightlyconjectured, the sound, without

startling Mildred, gave her tounderstand that she was wanted. Theminister watched her making her way tothe shore, leaping the dark spaces ofrushing water between the cakes,apparently as unconcerned as if shewere walking along the highway; andwhen he saw her safe on shore, he wasvery glad to sit down and drink a glassof the wine that Martha had brought torevive me. 'My dear madam,' he said, Iwas lying on the sofa in dreadfulsuspense, and could not trust myself tolook, 'the young lady is safe on thebank, and will be here in a moment. Ifear she is not so sedate as you fancied;and as she is too old to be spanked andput to bed, I should recommend your

sending her home by the coach to-morrow morning. That girl, madam,needs the curb, and you have beenguiding her with the snaffle.' He wasvery fond of horses, good man, andalways drove a good one himself."

"And did you send her home " askedHildegarde, anxiously, thinking what adreadful thing it would be to be sentback in disgrace.

"Oh, no!" said Miss Wealthy, "I couldnot do that, of course. Mildred was mygod-child, and I loved her dearly. Butshe was not allowed to see me fortwenty-four hours, and I fancy thosewere very sad hours for her. Dear

Mildred! that was her last prank; for thenext time she came here she was awoman grown, and all the hoyden wayshad been put off like a garment. Andnow, dears," added Miss Wealthy, rising,"we must let Martha take these dishes,or she will be late with her work, andthat always distresses her extremely."

They went into the parlor, andHildegarde, as she patted and"plumped" the cushions of the oldlady's chair, reminded her that she hadpromised them some work for themorning, but had not told them what itwas.

"True!" said Miss Wealthy. "You are

right, dear. This is my Flower-day. Isend flowers once a week to the sickchildren in the hospital at Fairtown,and I thought you might like to pickthem and make up the nosegays."

"Oh, how delightful that will be!" criedHildegarde. "And is that what you callwork, Cousin Wealthy I call it play, andthe best kind. We must go at once, so asto have them all picked before the sunis hot. Come, Rosebud!"

The girls put on their broad-brimmedhats and went out into the garden,which was still cool and dewy. Jeremiahwas there, of course, with hiswheelbarrow; and as they stood

looking about them, Martha appearedwith a tray in one hand and a largeshallow tin box in the other. Waving thetray as a signal to the girls to follow, sheled the way to a shady corner, where,under a drooping laburnum-tree, was atable and a rustic seat. She set the trayand box on the table, and then, divinginto her capacious pocket, produced aball of string, two pairs of flower-scissors, and a roll of tissue paper.

"There!" she said, in a tone ofsatisfaction, "I think that's all. Prettywork you'll find it, Miss Hilda, and it'sright glad I am to have you do it; for itis too much for Miss Bond, stoopingover the beds, so it is. But do it she will;

and I almost think she hardly liked togive it up, even to you."

"Indeed, I don't wonder!" saidHildegarde. "There cannot be anythingelse so pleasant to do. And thank you,Martha, for making everything socomfortable for us. You are a dear, as Imay have said before."

Martha chuckled and withdrew, aftertelling the girls that the flowers must beready in an hour.

"Now, Rose," said Hildegarde, "you willsit there and arrange the pretty dears asI bring them to you. The question isnow, where to begin. I never, in all my

life, saw so many flowers!"

"Begin with those that will not crusheasily," said Rose, "and I will lay them atthe bottom. Some of those splendidsweet-williams over there, andmignonette, and calendula, and sweetalyssum, and "

"Oh, certainly!" cried Hildegarde. "Allat once, of course, picking with all myhundred hands at the same moment.Couldn't you name a few more, Miss "

"I beg pardon!" said Rose, laughing. "Iwill confine my attention to thelaburnum here. 'Allee same,' I don'tbelieve you see that beautiful

mourning-bride behind you."

"Why mourning, and why bride " askedHildegarde, plucking some of the dark,rich blossoms. "It doesn't strike me as amelancholy flower."

"I don't know!" said Rose. "I used toplay that she was a princess, and sowore crimson instead of black formourning. She is so beautiful, it is apity she has no fragrance. She is of theteasel family, you know."

"Lady Teazle " asked Hildegarde,laughing.

"A different branch!" replied Rose, "but

just as prickly. The fuller's teasel, doyou know about it, dear "

"No, Miss Encyclopaedia, I do not!"replied Hildegarde, with some asperity."You know I never know anything ofthat kind; tell me about it!"

"Well, it is very curious," said Rose,taking the great bunch of mourning-bride that her friend handed her, andseparating the flowers daintily. "Theflower-heads of this teasel, when theyare dried, are covered with sharp curvedhooks, and are used to raise the nap onwoollen cloth. No machine orinstrument that can be invented does ithalf so well as this dead and withered

blossom. Isn't that interesting "

"Very!" said Hildegarde. "Oh, dear! oh,dear!"

"What is the matter " cried Rose, inalarm. "Has something stung you Letme "

"Oh, no!" said Hildegarde, quickly. "Iwas only thinking of the appallingnumber of things there are to know.They overwhelm me! They bury me! Amountain weighs me down, and on itstop grows a a teasel. Why, I never heardof the thing! I am not sure that I amclear what a fuller is, except that hisearth is advertised in the Pears' soap-

boxes."

They both laughed at this, and thenHildegarde bent with renewed energyover a bed of feathered pinks of allshades of crimson and rose-color.

"A mountain!" said Rose, slowly andthoughtfully, as she laid the blossomstogether and tied them up in smallposies. "Yes, Hilda, so it is! but amountain to climb, not to be buriedunder. To think that we can go onclimbing, learning, all our lives, andalways with higher and higher peaksabove us, soaring up and up, oh, it isglorious! What might be the matterwith you to-day, my lamb " she added;

for Hildegarde groaned, and plungedher face into a great white lily,withdrawing it to show a nosepowdered with virgin gold. "Does yourhead ache "

"I think the sturgeon is at the bottomof it," was the reply. "I have not yetrecovered fully from the humiliation ofhaving been so frightened by asturgeon, when I had been brought up,so to speak, on the 'Culprit Fay.' I haveeaten caviare too," she added gloomily,"odious stuff!"

"But, my dear Hilda!" cried Rose, inamused perplexity, "this is too absurd.Why shouldn't one be frightened at a

monstrous creature leaping out of thewater just before one's nose, and howshould you know he was a sturgeonYou couldn't expect him to say 'I am asturgeon!' or to carry a placard hunground his neck, with 'Fresh Caviare!' onit." Hildegarde laughed. "You remindme," added Rose, "that my ownignorance list is getting pretty long. Getme some sweet-peas, that's a dear; and Ican ask you the things while you arepicking them." Hildegarde moved tothe long rows of sweet-peas, whichgrew near the laburnum bower; andRose drew a little brown note-bookfrom her pocket, and laid it open onthe table beside her. "What is'Marlowe's mighty line' " she demanded

bravely. "I keep coming across thequotation in different things, and Idon't know who Marlowe was. Yet yousee I am cheerful."

"Kit Marlowe!" said Hildegarde. "PoorKit! he was a great dramatist; the nextgreatest after Shakspeare, I think, atleast, well, leaving out the Greeks, youknow. He was a year younger thanShakspeare, and died when he was onlytwenty-eight, killed in a tavern brawl."

"Oh, how dreadful!" cried gentle Rose."Then he had only begun to write."

"Oh, no!" said Hildegarde. "He hadwritten a great deal, 'Faustus' and

'Edward II.,' and 'Tamburlaine,' and oh!I don't know all. But one thing of hisyou know, 'The Passionate Shepherd,''Come live with me and be my love;'you remember "

"Oh!" cried Rose. "Did he write that Ilove him, then."

"And so many, many lovely things!"continued Hildegarde, warming to hersubject, and snipping sweet-peasvigorously. "Mamma has read me agood deal here and there, all of'Edward II.,' and bits from 'Faustus.'There is one place, where he sees Helenoh, I must remember it!

"'Was this the face that launched athousand ships, And burnt the toplesstowers of Ilium '

Isn't that full of pictures I see them! Isee the ships, and the white, royal city,and the beautiful, beautiful facelooking down from a tower window."

Both girls were silent a moment; thenRose asked timidly, "And who spokeof the 'mighty line,' dear It must havebeen another great poet. Only threewords, and such a roll and ring andbrightness in them."

"Oh! Ben Jonson!" said Hildegarde."He was another great dramatist, you

know; a little younger, but of the sametime with Shakspeare and Marlowe. Helived to be quite old, and he wrote avery famous poem on Shakspeare, 'allfull of quotations,' as somebody saidabout 'Hamlet.' It is in that that he says'Marlowe's mighty line,' and 'SweetSwan of Avon,' and 'Soul of the Age,'and all sorts of pleasant things. So niceof him!"

"And and was he an ancestor of Dr.Samuel's " asked Rose, humbly.

"Why, darling, you are really quiteignorant!" cried Hildegarde, laughing."How delightful to find things that youdon't know! No, he had no h in his

name, at least, it had been left out; buthe came originally from the Johnstonesof Annandale. Think of it! he may havebeen a cousin of Jock Johnstone theTinkler, without knowing it. Well, hisfather died when he was little, and hismother married a brick-layer; and Benused to carry hods of mortar upladders, oh me! what a strange world itis! By-and-by he was made Laureate, thefirst Laureate, and he was very greatand glorious, and wrote masques andplays and poems, and quarrelled withInigo Jones no! I can't stop to tell youwho he was," seeing the question inRose's eyes, "and grew very fat. Butwhen he was old they neglected him,poor dear! and when he died he was

buried standing up straight, inWestminster Abbey; and his friend JackYoung paid a workman eighteenpenceto carve on a stone 'O Rare BenJonson!' and there it is to this day."

She paused for breath; but Rose saidnothing, seeing that more was coming."But the best of all," continuedHildegarde, "was his visit toDrummond of Hawthornden. Oh,Rose, that was so delightful!"

"Tell me about it!" said Rose, softly."Not that I know who he was; but hisname is a poem in itself."

"Isn't it " cried Hildegarde. "He was a

poet too, a Scottish poet, living in awonderful old house "

"Not 'caverned Hawthornden,' in'Lovely Rosabelle' " cried Rose, her eyeslighting up with new interest.

"Yes!" replied Hildegarde, "just that.Do you know why it is 'caverned' Thatmust be another story. Remind me totell you when we are doing our hair to-night. But now you must hear aboutBen. Well, he went on a walking tour toScotland, and one of his first visits wasto William Drummond, with whom hehad corresponded a good deal.Drummond was sitting under his greatsycamore-tree, waiting for him, and at

last he saw a great ponderous figurecoming down the avenue, flourishing ahuge walking-stick. Of course he knewwho it was; so he went forward to meethim, and called out, 'Welcome,welcome, royal Ben!' 'Thank ye, thankye, Hawthornden!' answered Jonson;and then they both laughed and werefriends at once."

"Hildegarde, where do you find allthese wonderful things " cried Rose, inamazement. "That is delightful,enchanting. And for you to callyourself ignorant! Oh!"

"There is a life of Drummond athome," said Hildegarde, simply. "Of

course one reads lovely things, there isno merit in that; and the teasel stillflaunts. But I do feel better. That is justmy baseness, to be glad when you don'tknow things, you dearest! But do justlook at these sweet-peas! I have pickedall these, pecks! bushels! and there areas many as ever. Don't you think wehave enough flowers, Rosy "

"I do indeed!" answered Rose."Enough for a hundred children atleast. Besides, it must be time for themto go. The lovely things! Think of allthe pleasure they will give! A sick child,and a bunch of flowers like these!" Shetook up a posy of velvet pansies andsweet-peas, set round with mignonette,

and put it lovingly to her lips. "Iremember " She paused, and sighed,and then smiled.

"Yes, dear!" said Hildegarde,interrogatively. "The house where youwere born "

"One day I was in dreadful pain," saidRose, "pain that seemed as if it wouldnever end, and a little child from aneighbor's house brought a bunch ofRagged Robin, and laid it on my pillow,and said, 'Poor Pinky! make she better!'I think I have never loved any otherflower quite so much as Ragged Robin,

since then. It is the only one I misshere. Do you want to hear the littlerhyme I made about it, when I was oldenough "

Hildegarde answered by sitting downon the arm of the rustic seat, andthrowing her arm round her friend'sshoulder in her favorite fashion. "Sucha pleasant Rosebud!" she murmured."Tell now!"

And Rose told about

RAGGED ROBIN.

O Robin, ragged Robin, That standsbeside the door, The sweetheart of the

country child, The flower of the poor,

I love to see your cheery face, Yourstraggling bravery; Than many a statelygarden bloom You're dearer far to me.

For you it needs no sheltered nook, Nowell-kept flower-bed; By cottage porch,by roadside ditch, You raise yourhonest head.

The small hedge-sparrow knows youwell, The blackbird is your friend; Withclustering bees and butterflies Yourpink-fringed blossoms bend.

O Robin, ragged Robin, The dearestflower that grows, Why don't you patch

your tattered cloak Why don't youmend your hose

Would you not like to prank it thereWithin the border bright, Among theroses and the pinks, A courtly dame'sdelight

"Ah no!" says jolly Robin, "'T wouldnever do for me; The friend of birdand butterfly, Like them I must be free.

"The garden is for stately folk, The lilyand the rose; They'd scorn my coat ofragged pink, Would flout my brokenhose.

"Then let me bloom in wayside ditch,

And by the cottage door, Thesweetheart of the country child, Theflower of the poor."

CHAPTER IX.

BROKEN FLOWERS.

Miss Wealthy was sitting on the backpiazza, crocheting a tidy. The stitch wasa new one, and quite complicated, andher whole mind was bent upon it."One, two, purl, chain, slip; one, two,purl" when suddenly descended uponher a whirlwind, a vision of sparklingeyes and "tempestuous petticoat,"

crying, "Please, Cousin Wealthy, may Igo with Jeremiah The wagon is allready. Mayn't I go Oh, please say 'yes'!"

Miss Wealthy started so violently thatthe crochet-hook fell from her hands."My dear Hilda!" she said plaintively,"you quite take my breath away. I really,my dear, I don't know what to say.Where do you want to go "

"With Jeremiah, to Fairtown, with theflowers to see the children!" criedHildegarde, still too much out ofbreath to speak connectedly, butdropping on one knee beside the oldlady, and stroking her soft handapologetically. "He says he will take care

of me; and Rose has a long letter towrite, and I shall be back in time fordinner. Dear, nice, pretty, sweet,bewitching Cousin Wealthy, may I go "

Miss Wealthy was still bewildered."Why, my dear," she said hesitatingly."Yes you may go, certainly if you arequite sure "

But Hildegarde waited for no "ifs." Shewhirled upstairs, flew out of her pinkgingham and into a sober dark blueone, exchanged her garden hat for ablue "sailor," whirled downstairs again,kissed Rose on both cheeks, droppedanother kiss on Miss Wealthy's cap, andwas in the wagon and out of sight

round the corner before any one withmoderately deliberate enunciationcould have said "Jack Robinson."

Miss Wealthy dropped back in herchair, and drew a long, flutteringbreath. She looked flushed andworried, and put her hand nervouslyup to the pansy brooch. Seeing this,Rose came quietly, picked up thecrochet-hook, and sat down to admirethe work, and wonder if she couldlearn the stitch. "Perhaps some timeyou would show it to me, dear MissBond," she said; "and now may I readyou that article on window-gardeningthat you said you would like to hear "

So Rose read, in her low, even tones,smooth and pleasant as the rippling ofwater; and Miss Wealthy's brow grewcalm again, and the flush passed away,and her thoughts passed pleasantlyfrom "one, two, purl, slip," to gloxiniasand cyclamen, and back again; till atlength, the day being warm, she fellasleep, which was exactly what the wilyRose meant her to do.

Meantime Hildegarde was speedingalong toward the station, seated besideJeremiah in the green wagon, with thebox of flowers stowed safely under theseat. She was in high spirits, anddetermined to enjoy every moment ofher "escapade," as she called it. Jeremiah

surveyed her bright face with chastenedmelancholy.

"Reckon you're in for a junket," he saidkindly. "Quite a head o' steam youcarry. 'T'll do ye good to work it offsome."

"Yes!" cried Hildegarde. "It is a regularfrolic, isn't it, Jeremiah How beautifuleverything looks! What a perfection ofa day it is!"

"Fine hayin' weather!" Jeremiahassented. "We sh'll begin to-morrow, Icalc'late. Pleasant, hayin' time is. Now,thar's a field!" He pointed with hiswhip to a broad meadow all blue-green

with waving timothy, and sighed, andshook his head.

"Isn't it a good field " askedHildegarde, innocently.

"Best lot on the place!" replied theprophet, with melancholy enthusiasm."Not many lots like that in thisneighborhood! There's a power o' grassthere. Well, sirs! grass must be cut, andhay must be eat, there's no gainsayin'that, 'in the sweat o' thy brow,' yeunderstand; but still there's someenj'yment in it."

Hildegarde could not quite follow thissentence, which seemed to be only half

addressed to her; so she only noddedsagely, and turned her attention to theferns by the roadside.

It was less than an hour's trip toFairtown, nor was the walk longthrough the pleasant, elm-shadedstreets. The hospital was a brickbuilding, painted white, and lookingvery neat and trim, with its stripedawnings, and its flagged pathwaybetween rows of box. One saw that ithad been a fine dwelling-house in itsday, for the wood of the doorway wascunningly carved, and the brassknocker was quite a work of art.

Jeremiah knocked; and when the door

was opened by a neat maidservant, hebrought the box of flowers, and laid iton a table in the hall. "Miss Bond'sniece!" he said, with a nod ofexplanation and introduction."Thought she'd come herself; like to seethe young ones. I'll be back for ye in anhour," he added to Hildegarde, andwith another nod departed.

After waiting a few minutes in a cool,shady parlor, where she sat feelingstrange and shy, and wishing she hadnot come, Hildegarde was greeted by asweet-faced woman in spotless cap andapron, who bade her welcome, andasked for Miss Bond. "It is some timesince she has been here!" she added.

"We are always so glad to see her, dearlady. But her kindness comes everyweek in the lovely flowers, and thechildren do think so much of them.Would you like to distribute themyourself to-day A new face is always apleasure, if it is a kind one; and yourswill bring sunshine, I am sure."

"Oh, thank you!" said Hildegarde, shyly."It is just what I wanted, if you reallythink they would like it."

Mrs. Murray, as the matron was called,seemed to have no doubt upon thispoint, and led the way upstairs, theservant following with the flowers. Sheopened a door, and led Hildegarde into

a large, sunny room, with little whitebeds all along the wall. On every pillowlay a little head; and many faces turnedtoward the opening door, with a lookof pleasure at meeting the matron'scheery smile. Hildegarde opened hergreat box, and taking up three or fourbouquets, moved forward hesitatingly.This was something new to her. Shehad visited girls of her own age ormore, in the New York hospitals, butshe was not used to little children,being herself an only child. In the firstcot lay a little girl, a mite of five years,with a pale patient face. She could notmove her hands, but she turned herface toward the bunch of sweet-peasthat Hildegarde laid on the pillow, and

murmured, "Pitty! pitty!"

"Aren't they sweet " said Hildegarde."Do you see that they have little wings,almost like butterflies When the windblows, they flutter about, and seem tobe alive, almost."

The child smiled, and put her lips tothe cool fragrant blossoms. "Kissbutterf'ies!" she said; and at thisHildegarde kissed her, and went on tothe next crib.

Here lay a child of seven, her sweetblue eyes heavy with fever, her cheeksflushed and burning. She stretched outher hands toward the flowers, and said,

"White ones! give me white ones, Lady!Red ones is hot! Minnie is too hot.White ones is cold."

A nurse stood beside the crib, andHildegarde looked to her forpermission, then filled the little handswith sweet alyssum and white roses.

"The roses were all covered with dewwhen I picked them," she said softly."See, dear, they are still cool and fresh."And she laid them against the burningcheek. "There was a great bed of rosesin a lovely garden, and while I was atone end of it, a little humming-birdcame to the other, and hovered about,and put his bill into the flowers. His

head was bright green, like the leaves,and his throat was ruby-red, and "

"Guess that's a lie, ain't it " asked thechild, wearily.

"Oh, no!" said Hildegarde, smiling. "Itis all true, every word. When you arebetter, I will send you a picture of ahumming-bird."

She nodded kindly, and moved on, togive red roses to a bright little tot in ared flannel dressing-gown, who wassitting up in bed, nursing a rubberelephant. He took the roses and said,"Sanks!" very politely, then held themto his pet's gray proboscis. "I's better,"

he explained, with somecondescension. "I don't need 'em, butNelephant doos. He's a severe case.Doctor said so vis mornin'."

"Indeed!" said Hildegarde,sympathetically. "I am very sorry. Whatis the matter with him "

"Mumps 'n' ague 'n' brown kitties 'n'ammonia 'n' fits!" was the prompt reply;"and a hole in his leg too! Feel hispult!"

He held up a gray leg, whichHildegarde examined gravely. "It seemsto be hollow," she said. "Did the doctorthink that was a bad sign "

"It's fits," said the child, "or a brownkitty, I don't know which. Is you anurse "

"No, dear," said Hildegarde; "I onlycame to bring the flowers. I must goaway soon, but I shall think of you andthe elephant, and I hope he will bebetter soon."

"Sing!" was the unexpected reply, in atone of positive command.

"Benny!" said Mrs. Murray, who cameup at this moment; "you mustn't teasethe young lady, dear. See! the otherchildren are waiting for their flowers,

and you have these lovely roses."

"She looks singy!" persisted Benny. "Iwants her to sing. Doctor said I couldhave what I wanted, and I wants vat."

"May I sing to him " asked Hildegarde,in a low tone. "I can sing a little, if itwould not disturb the others."

But Mrs. Murray thought the otherswould like it very much. So Hildegardefirst gave posies to all the otherchildren in the room, and then cameback and sat down on Benny's bed, andsang, "Up the airy mountain," in a verysweet, clear voice. Several little ones hadbeen tossing about in feverish

restlessness, but now they lay still andlistened; and when the song was over, ahoarse voice from a corner of the roomcried, "More! more sing!"

"She's my more! she isn't your more!"cried Benny, sitting erect, with flashingeyes that glared across the room at theoffender. But a soft hand held a cup ofmilk to his lips, and laid him back onthe pillow; and the nurse motioned toHildegarde to go on.

Then she sang, "Ring, ting! I wish Iwere a primrose;" and then another ofdear William Allingham's, which hadbeen her own pet song when she wasBenny's age.

"'Oh, birdie, birdie, will you, petSummer is far and far away yet. You'llget silken coats and a velvet bed, And apillow of satin for your head.'

"'I'd rather sleep in the ivy wall! No raincomes through, though I hear it fallThe sun peeps gay at dawn of day, AndI sing and wing away, away.'

"'Oh, birdie, birdie, will you, petDiamond stones, and amber and jet, I'llstring in a necklace fair and fine, Toplease this pretty bird of mine.'

"'Oh, thanks for diamonds and thanksfor jet, But here is something daintier

yet. A feather necklace round andround, That I would not sell for athousand pound.'

"'Oh, birdie, birdie, won't you, pet I'llbuy you a dish of silver fret; A goldencup and an ivory seat, And carpets softbeneath your feet.'

"'Can running water be drunk fromgold Can a silver dish the forest hold Arocking twig is the finest chair, And thesoftest paths lie through the air.Farewell, farewell to my lady fair!'"

By the time the song was finished,Benny was sleeping quietly, and thenurse thanked Hildegarde for "getting

him off so cleverly. He needed a nap,"she said; "and if he thinks we want himto go to sleep, he sets all his littlestrength against it. He's getting better,the lamb!"

"What has been the matter " askedHildegarde.

"Pneumonia," was the reply. "He hascome out of it very well, but I dreadthe day when he must go home to abusy, careless mother and a draughtycottage. He ought to have a couple ofweeks in the country."

At this moment the head nurse a tall,slender woman with a beautiful face

came from an inner room, the door ofwhich had been standing ajar. She heldout her hand to Hildegarde, and the girlsaw that her eyes were full of tears."Thank you," she said, "for the song.Another little bird has just flown awayfrom earth, and he went smiling, whenhe heard you sing. Have you any sweetlittle flowers, pink and white "

The quick tears sprang to Hilda's eyes.She could not speak for a moment, butshe lifted some lovely sprays of blushrosebuds, which the nurse took with asmile and a look of thanks. The girl'seyes followed her; and before the doorclosed she caught a glimpse of a littlestill form, and a cloud of fair curls, and

a tiny waxen hand. Hildegarde buriedher face in her hands and sobbed; whileBenny's gentle nurse smoothed her hair,and spoke softly and soothingly. Thiswas what she had called a "frolic," this!She had laughed, and come away as ifto some gay party, and now a little childhad died almost close beside her.Hildegarde had never been so neardeath before. The world seemed verydark to her, as she turned away, andfollowed Mrs. Murray into anotherroom, where the convalescent childrenwere at play. Here, as she took theremaining flowers from the box, littleboys and girls came crowding abouther, some on crutches, some with slingsand bandages, some only pale and

hollow-eyed; but all had a look of"getting well," and all were eager for theflowers. The easiest thing seemed to beto sit down on the floor; so downplumped Hildegarde, and downplumped the children beside her.Looking into the little pallid faces, herheart grew lighter, though even this wassad enough. But she smiled, and peltedthe children with bouquets; and thenfollowed much feeble laughter, andclutching, and tumbling about, whilethe good matron looked on wellpleased.

"What's them " asked one tiny boy,holding up his bunch.

"Those are pansies!" answeredHildegarde. "There are little faces inthem, do you see They smile when thesun shines, and when children aregood."

"Nein," said a small voice from theoutside of the circle, "dat issStiefmuetterlein!"

"Du Bluemlein fein!" cried Hildegarde."Yes, to be sure. Come here, littleGerman boy, and we will tell the othersabout the pretty German name."

A roly-poly lad of six, with flaxen hair

and bright blue eyes, came forwardshyly, and after some persuasion wasinduced to sit down in Hildegarde's lap."See now!" she said to the others; "thispansy has a different name in Germany,where this boy "

"Namens Fritzerl!" murmured theurchin, nestling closer to the wonderfulFraeulein who knew German.

"Where Fritzerl came from. There theycall it 'Stiefmuetterlein,' which means'little stepmother.' Shall I tell you whySee! In front here are three petals justalike, with the same colors and thesame marking. These are thestepmother and her own two daughters;

and here, behind, are the two step-daughters, standing in the background,but keeping close together like lovingsisters. I hope the little stepmother iskind to them, don't you "

"I've got one!" piped up a little girl witha crutch. "She's real good, she is. Onlyshe washes my face 'most all day long,'cause she's 'feared she won't do herduty by me. She brought me red jellyyesterday, and a noil-cloth bib, so's Iwouldn't spill it on my dress. My dress's new!" she added, edging up toHildegarde, and holding up a redmerino skirt with orange spots.

"I see it is," said Hilda, admiringly; "and

so bright and warm, isn't it "

"I've got a grandma to home!" criedanother shrill voice. "She makessplendid mittens! She makes cookiestoo."

"My Uncle Jim's got a wooden leg!"chimed in another. "He got it fallingoff a mast. He kin drive tacks with it,he kin. When I'm big I'm going to falloff a mast and git a wooden leg. Youkin make lots o' noise with it."

"My grandma's got a wig!" said theformer speaker, in triumph. "I pulled itoff one day. She was just like an aig ontop. Are you like an aig on top "

Here followed a gentle pull at one ofHildegarde's smooth braids, and shesprang up, feeling quite sure that herhair would stay on, but not caring tohave it tumbling on her shoulders. "Ithink it is nearly time for me to gonow," she was beginning, when sheheard a tiny sob, and looking down,saw a very small creature looking up ather with round blue eyes full of tears."Why, darling, what is the matter " sheasked, stooping, and lifting the baby inher strong young arms.

"I wanted " Here came another sob.

"What did you want Come, we'll sit

here by the window, and you shall tellme all about it."

"Ze uzzers told you sings, and I wantedto tell you sings too!"

"Well, pet!" said Hildegarde, drying thetears, and kissing the round velvetcheek, "tell me then!"

"Ain't got no sings to tell!" Andanother outburst threatened; but Hildaintervened hastily.

"Oh, yes, I am sure you have things totell, lots of things; only you couldn'tthink of them for a minute. What didyou have for breakfast this morning "

Baby looked doubtful. "Dat ain't asing!"

"Yes, it is," said Hildegarde, boldly."Come, now! I had a mutton chop.What did you have "

"Beef tea," was the reply, with abrightening look of retrospective cheer,"and toasty strips!"

"Oh, how good!" cried Hilda. "I wish Ihad some. And what are you going tohave for dinner "

"Woast tsicken!" and here at last came asmile, which broadened into a laugh

and ended in a chuckle, as Hildaperformed a pantomime expressingrapture.

"I never heard of anything so good!"she cried. "And what are you going toeat it with, two little sticks "

"No-o!" cried Baby, with a disdainfullaugh. "Wiz a worky, a weal worky."

"A walk!" said Hildegarde, puzzled.

"Es!" said Baby, proudly. "A atta worky,dess like people's!"

"Please, he means fork!" said a little girl,sidling up with a finger in her mouth.

"Please, he's my brother, and we'veboth had tripod fever; and we're goinghome to-morrow."

"And the young lady must go homenow," said Mrs. Murray, laying a kindhand on the little one's shoulder. "Theman has come for you, Miss Grahame,and I don't know how to thank youenough for all the pleasure you havegiven these dear children."

"Oh, no!" cried Hildegarde. "Pleasedon't! It is I who must thank you andthe children and all. I wish Rose I wishmy friend had come. She would haveknown; she would have said just theright thing to each one. Next time I

shall bring her."

But "Nein! Muessen selbst kommen!"cried Fritzerl; and "You come, Lady!"shouted all the others. And asHildegarde passed back through thelong room where the sick children lay,Benny woke from his nap, and shouted,"Sing-girl! my sing-girl! come backsoon!"

So, half laughing and half crying,Hildegarde passed out, her heart veryfull of painful pleasure.

CHAPTER X.

THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD.

Rose was wonderfully better. Every dayin the clear, bracing air of Bywoodseemed to bring fresh vigor to herframe, fresh color to her cheeks. Shebegan to take regular walks, instead ofstrolling a little way, leaning on herfriend's stronger arm. Together the girlsexplored all the pleasant places of theneighborhood, which were many;hunted for rare ferns, with tin plant-boxes hanging from their belts, orstalked the lonely cardinal-flower, as itnodded over some woodland brook.Often they took the little boat, andmade long expeditions down the

pleasant river, Hildegarde rowing, Rosecouched at her ease in the stern. Oncethey came to the mouth of a streamwhich they pleased themselves byimagining to be unknown to mankind.Dipping the oars gently, Hildegardedrew the boat on and on, between high,dark banks of hemlock and pine andwhite birch. Here were cardinal-flowers,more than they had ever seen before,rank behind rank, all crowding down tothe water's edge to see their beautymirrored in the clear, dark stream. Theywere too beautiful to pick. ButHildegarde took just one, as amemento, and even for that one thespirit of the enchanted place seemed tobe angered; for there was a flash of

white barred wings, a loud shrill cry,and they caught the gleam of two fierceblack eyes, as something whirred pastthem across the stream, and vanished inthe woods beyond.

"Oh! what was it " cried Hildegarde."Have we done a dreadful thing "

"Only a kingfisher!" said Rose,laughing. "But I don't believe we oughtto have picked his flower. This iscertainly a fairy place! Move on, or hemay cast a spell over us, and we shallturn into two black stones."

One day, however, they had a strangeradventure than that of the Halcyon

Stream, as they named the mysteriousbrook. They had been walking in thewoods; and Rose, being tired, hadstopped to rest, while Hildegardepursued a "yellow swallow-tail" amongthe trees. Rose established herself onthe trunk of a fallen tree, whoseupturned roots made a mostcomfortable armchair, all tapestriedwith emerald moss. She looked abouther with great content; counted thedifferent kinds of moss growing withinimmediate reach, and found six; tried todecide which was the prettiest, andfinding this impossible, gave it up, andfell to watching the play of thesunshine as it came twinkling throughthe branches of oak and pine. Green

and gold! those were the colors thefairy princes always wore, she thought.It was the most perfect combination inthe world; and she hummed a verse ofone of Hildegarde's ballads:

"Gold and green, gold and green, Shewas the lass that was born a queen.Velvet sleeves to her grass-green gown,And clinks o' gold in her hair sobrown."

Presently the girl noticed that in oneplace the trees were thinner, and thatthe light came strongly through, asfrom an open space beyond. Did thewood end here, then She rose, andparting the leaves, moved forward, till

all of a sudden she stopped short, inamazement. For something strange wasbefore her. In an open green space,with the forest all about it, stood ahouse, not a deserted house, nor atumbledown log-hut, such as one oftensees in Maine, but a trim, pretty cottage,painted dark red, with a vine-coveredpiazza, and a miniature lawn, smoothand green, sloping down to a fringe ofwillows, beyond which was heard themurmur of an unseen brook. Theshutters were closed, and there was nosign of life about the place, yet all wasin perfect order; all looked fresh andwell cared for, as if the occupants hadgone for a walk or drive, and mightreturn at any moment. A drive Hark!

was not that the sound of wheels, evenat this moment, on the neat gravel-pathRose drew back instinctively, letting thebranches close in front of her. Yet, shethought, there could be no harm in herpeeping just for a moment, to see whothese forest-dwellers might be. A fairyprince a queenly maiden in gold andgreen Laughing at her own thoughts,she leaned forward to peep through theleafy screen. What was herastonishment when round the cornercame the familiar head of Dr.Abernethy, with the carryall behindhim, Jeremiah driving, and MissWealthy sitting on the back seat! Rosecould not believe her eyes at first, andthought she must be asleep on the tree-

trunk, and dreaming it all. Her secondthought was, why should not MissBond know the people of the houseThey were her neighbors; she had cometo make a friendly call. There wasnothing strange about it. No! but it wasstrange to see the old lady, aftermounting the steps slowly, draw a keyfrom her pocket, deliberately open thedoor, and enter the house, closing thedoor after her. Jeremiah drove slowlyround to the back of the house. In afew moments the shutters of the lowerrooms were flung back. Miss Wealthystood at the window for a few minutes,gazing out thoughtfully; then shedisappeared.

Rose was beginning to feel very guilty,as if she had seen what she ought notto see. A sense of sadness, of mystery,weighed heavily on her sensitive spirit.Very quietly she stole back to her tree-trunk, and was presently joined byHildegarde, flushed and radiant, withthe butterfly safe in her plant-box, aquick and merciful pinch havingconverted him into a "specimen"before he fairly knew that he wascaught. Rose told her tale, andHildegarde wondered, and in her turnwent to look at the mysterious house.

"How very strange!" she said, returning."I hardly know why it is so strange, forof course there might be all kinds of

things to account for it. It may be thehouse of some one who has gone awayand asked Cousin Wealthy to come andlook at it occasionally. The people maybe in it, and like to have the blinds allshut. And yet yet, I don't believe it is so.I feel strange!"

"Come away!" said Rose, rising. "Comehome; it is a secret, and not our secret."

And home they went, very silent, andforgetting to look for maiden-hair,which they had come specially to seek.

But girls are girls; and Hildegarde andRose could not keep their thoughtsfrom dwelling on the house in the

wood. After some consultation, theydecided that there would be no harm inasking Martha about it. If she put themoff, or seemed unwilling to speak, thenthey would try to forget what they hadseen, and keep away from that part ofthe woods; if not

So it happened that the next day, whileMiss Wealthy was taking her after-dinner nap, the two girls presentedthemselves at the door of Martha's littlesewing-room, where she sat with hersleeves rolled up, hemming pillow-cases. It was a sunny little room, with apleasant smell of pennyroyal about it.There was a little mahogany table thatmight have done duty as a looking-

glass, and indeed did reflect thewonderful bouquet of wax flowers thatadorned it; a hair-cloth rocking-chair,and a comfortable wooden one with adelightful creak, without which Marthawould not have felt at home. On thewalls were some bright prints, and aframed temperance pledge (Martha hadnever tasted anything stronger thanshrub, and considered that rather adangerous stimulant); and theDeathbed of Lincoln, with a woodenWashington diving out of stony cloudsto receive the departing spirit.

"May we come in, Martha " askedHildegarde. "We have brought ourwork, and we want to ask you about

something."

"Come in, and welcome!" respondedMartha. "Glad to see you, if you canmake yourselves comfortable, that is. I'llget another chair from "

"No, indeed, you will not!" saidHildegarde. "Rose shall sit in thisrocking-chair, and I will take thewindow-seat, which is better thananything else; so, there we are, allsettled! Now, Martha " She hesitated amoment, and Rose shrank back andmade a little deprecatory movementwith her hand; but Hildegarde was notto be stopped. "Martha, we have seenthe house in the wood. We just

happened on it by chance, and we sawwe saw Cousin Wealthy go in. And wewant to know if you can tell us aboutit, or if Cousin Wealthy would not likeus to be told. You will know, ofcourse."

She paused. A shadow had crossedMartha's cheerful, wise face; and shesighed and stitched away in silence ather pillow-case for some minutes, whilethe girls waited with outward patience.At last, "I don't know why I shouldn'ttell you, young ladies," she said slowly."It's no harm, and no secret; only, ofcourse, you wouldn't speak of it to her,poor dear!"

She was silent again, collecting herwords; for she was slow of speech, thisgood Martha. "That house," she said atlast, "belongs to Miss Bond. It wasbuilt just fifty years ago by the youngman she was going to marry."Hildegarde drew in her breath quickly,with a low cry of surprise, but made nofurther interruption.

"He was a fine young gentleman, I'vebeen told by all as had seen him; talland handsome, with a kind of foreignway with him, very taking. He wasbrought up in France, and almost assoon as he came out here (his peoplewere from Castine, and had Frenchblood) he met Miss Bond, and they fell

in love with each other at sight, as theysay. She lived here in this same housewith her father (her mother was dead),and she was as sweet as a June rose, anda picture to look at. Ah! dear me, dearme! Poor lamb! I never saw her then. Iwas a baby, as you may say; leastwise achild of three or four.

"Old Mary told me all about it whenfirst I came, old Mary was housekeeperhere forty years, and died ten year ago.Well, she used to say it was a picture tosee Miss Wealthy when she wasexpecting Mr. La Rose (Victor La Rosewas his name). She would put on awhite gown, with a bunch of pansies inthe front of it; they were his favorite

flowers, Mary said, and he used to callher his Pansy, which means somethingin French, I don't rightly know what;and then she would come out on thelawn, and look and look down river.Most times he came up in his sail-boat,he loved the water, and was more athome on it than on land, as you maysay. And when she saw the white boatcoming round the bend, she wouldflush all up, old Mary said, like one ofthem damask roses in your belt, MissHilda; and her eyes would shine andsparkle, and she'd clap her hands like achild, and run down to the wharf tomeet him. Standing there, with herlovely hair blowing about in the wind,she would look more like a spirit, Mary

would say, than a mortal person. Thenwhen the boat touched the wharf, shewould hold out her little hands to helphim up; and he, so strong and tall, wasglad to be helped, just to touch herhand. And so they would come up tothe house together, holding of hands,like two happy children. And full ofplay they was, tossing flowers aboutand singing and laughing, all for the joyof being together, as you may say; andshe always with a pansy for his button-hole the first thing; and he lookingdown so proud and loving while shefastened it in. And most times he'dbring her something, a box ofchocolate, or a new book, or whateverit was, but old Mary thought she was

best pleased when he came withnothing but himself. And both of themthat loving and care-taking to the oldgentleman, as one don't often see inyoung folks courting; making him sitwith them on the piazza after tea, andthe young man telling all he'd seen anddone since the last time; and then shewould take her guitar and sing thesweetest, old Mary said, that ever wassung out of heaven. Then by and byold Mr. Bond would go away in to hisbook, and they would sit and talk, orwalk in the moonlight, or perhaps goout on the water. She was a great handfor the water, Mary said; and never'sbeen on it since that time. Not that it'sto wonder at, to my mind. Ah, dear me!

"Well, my dears, they was to be marriedin the early fall, as it might beSeptember. He had built that prettyhouse, so as she needn't be far from herfather, who was getting on in years, andshe his only child. He furnished itbeautiful, every room like a best parlor,carpets and sofys and lace curt'ins, therewas nothing too good. But her ownroom was all pansies, everything madeto order, with that pattern and nothingelse. It's a sight to see to-day, fifty yearssince 't was all fresh and new.

"One day my dear young ladies, theways of the Lord are very strange bytimes, but we must truly think that they

are his ways, and so better than ours,one day Miss Wealthy was looking forher sweetheart at the usual time of hiscoming, about three o'clock in theafternoon. The morning had been fine,but the weather seemed to be comingup bad, Mary thought; and old Mr.Bond thought so, too, for he came outon the piazza where Mary was sortingout garden-herbs, and said, 'Daughter, Ithink Victor will drive to-day. There is asquall coming up; it isn't a good day forthe water.'

"And it wasn't, Mary said; for an uglyblack cloud was coming over, andunder it the sky looked green andangry.

"But Miss Wealthy only laughed, andshook her yellow curls back, likecurling sunbeams, Mary said they was,and said, 'Victor doesn't mind squalls,Father dear. He has been in gales andhurricanes and cyclones, and do youthink he will stop for a river flaw See!there is the boat now, coming roundthe bend.' And there, sure enough,came the white sailboat, flying along asif she was alive, old Mary said. MissWealthy ran out on the lawn and wavedher handkerchief, and they saw theyoung man stand up in the boat andwave his in return. And then oh, dear!oh, dear me! Mary said, it seemed as ifsomething black came rushing across

the water and struck the boat like ahand; and down she went, and in amoment there was nothing to see, onlythe water all black and hissing, and thewind tearing the tree-tops."

"Oh! but he could swim!" criedHildegarde, pale and breathless.

"He was a noble swimmer, my dear!"said Martha, sadly. "But it came toosudden, you see. He had turned to lookat his sweetheart, poor younggentleman, and wave to her, and in thatmoment it came. He hadn't time to clearhimself, and was tangled in the ropes,and held down by the sail. Oh, don'task me any more! But he was drowned,

that is all of it. Death needs only amoment, and has that moment alwaysready. Eh, dear! My poor, sweet lady!"

There was a pause; for Rose wasweeping, and Hildegarde could notspeak, though her eyes were dry andshining.

Presently Martha continued: "The poordear fell back into her father's arms, andhe and Mary carried her into the house;and then came a long, sad time. Fordays and days they couldn't make herbelieve but that he was saved, for sheknew he was a fine swimmer; but atlast, when all was over, and the bodyfound and buried, they brought her a

little box that they found in his pocket,all soaked with water, oh, dear! and in itwas that pin, the stone pansy, as shealways wears, and will till the day shedies. Then she knew, and she lay backin her bed, and they thought she wouldnever leave it. But folks don't often diethat way, Miss Hilda and Miss Rose.Trouble is for us to live through, not todie by; and she got well, and comfortedher father, and by and by she learnedhow to smile again, though that wasnot for a long time. The poorgentleman had made a will, giving thenew house to her, and all he had; for hehad no near kin living. Mr. Bondwanted her to sell it; but, oh! shewouldn't hear to it. All these years fifty

long years, Miss Hilda! she has kept thathouse in apple-pie order. Once amonth I go over, as old Mary didbefore me, and sweep it from top tobottom, and wash the windows. Andthree times a week she Miss Bond goesover herself, as you saw her to-day, andsits an hour or so, and puts freshpansies in the vases; and Jeremiah keepsthe lawn mowed, odd times, andeverything in good shape. It's a strangefancy, to my idea; but there! it's herpleasure. In winter, when she can't go,of course, for the snow, she is alwayslow-spirited, poor lady! I was so gladMrs. Grahame asked her to go to NewYork last winter!

"And now, young ladies," said Martha,gathering up her pillow-cases, "I shouldbe in my kitchen, seeing about supper.That is all the story of the house in thewood. And you'll not let it make youtoo sad, seeing 't was the Lord's doing;and to look at her now, you'd neverthink but what her life had been of herown choosing, and she couldn't havehad any other."

Very quietly and sadly the girls went totheir rooms, and sat hand in hand, andtalked in whispers of what they hadheard. The brightness of the dayseemed gone; they could hardly bearthe pain of sympathy, of tender pity,that filled their young hearts. They

could not understand how there couldever be rallying from such a blow. Theyknew nothing of how long passingyears turn bitter to sweet, and build alovely "House of Rest" over what wasonce a black gulf of anguish andhorror.

Miss Wealthy's cheerful face, when theywent down to tea, struck them with ashock; they had almost expected to findit pale and tear-stained, and couldhardly command their usual voices inspeaking to her. The good lady wasquite distressed. "My dear Rose," shesaid, "you look very pale and tired. I amquite sure you must have walked toofar to-day. You would better go to bed

very early, my dear, and Martha shallgive you a hop pillow. Very soothing ahop pillow is, when one is tired. And,Hilda, you are not in your usual spirits.I trust you are not homesick, my child!You have not touched your favoritecream-cheese."

Both girls reassured her, feeling ratherashamed of themselves; and after teaHildegarde read "Bleak House" aloud,and then they had a game of casino,and the evening passed off quitecheerfully.

CHAPTER XI.

"UP IN THE MORNING EARLY."

"One! two! three! four! five! six!" saidthe clock in the hall.

"Yes, I know it!" replied Hildegarde,sitting up in bed; and then she slippedquietly out and went to call Rose.

"Get up, you sleepy flower!" she said,shaking her friend gently,

"A l'heure ou s'eveille la rose, Ne vas-tupas te reveiller "

Rose sighed, as she always did at thesound of the "impossible language," as

she called the French, over which shestruggled for an hour every day; but gotup obediently, and made a hasty andfragmentary toilet, ending with awaterproof instead of a dress. Theneach girl took a blue bundle and abrown bath towel, and softly theyslipped downstairs, making no noise,and out into the morning air, and awaydown the path to the river. Every bladeof grass was awake, and a-quiver withthe dewdrop on its tip; the treesshowered pearls and diamonds on thetwo girls, as they brushed past them; thebirds were singing and fluttering andtwittering on every branch, as if thewhole world belonged to them, asindeed it did. On the river lay a mantle

of soft white mist, curling at the edges,and lifting here and there; and into thismist the sun was striking gold arrows,turning the white to silver, and breakingthrough it to meet the blue flash of thewater. Gradually the mist rose, andfloated in the air; and now it was amaiden, a young Titaness, rising fromher sleep, with trailing white robes,which caught on the trees and thepoints of rock, and hung in fleecytatters on the hillside, and curled insnowy circles through the coves andhollows. At last she laid her long whitearms over the hill-tops, and lifted herfair head, and so melted quite away andwas gone, and the sun had it all hisown way.

Then Hildegarde and Rose, who hadbeen standing in silent delight andwonder, gave each a sigh of pleasure,and hugged each other a little, becauseit was so beautiful, and went into theboat-house. Thence they reappeared ina few minutes, clad in close-fittingraiment of blue flannel, their armsbare, their hair knotted in Gothicfashion on top of their heads. ThenHildegarde stood on the edge of thewharf, and rose on the tips of her toes,and joined her palms high above herhead, then sprang into the air,describing an arc, and disappeared witha silver splash which rivalled that of herown sturgeon. But Rose, who could

not dive, just sat down on the wharfand then rolled off it, in the mostcomfortable way possible. When theyboth came up, there was much puffing,and shaking of heads, and little gaspsand shrieks of delight. The water by thewharf was nearly up to the girls'shoulders, and farther than this Rosecould not go, as she could not swim; soa rope had been stretched from the endof the wharf to the shore, and on thisshe swung, like the mermaids on theAtlantic cable, in Tenniel's charmingpicture, and floated at full length, andplayed a thousand gambols. She couldsee the white pebbled bottom throughthe clear water, and her own feet aswhite as the pebbles (Rose had very

pretty feet; and now that they were nolonger useless appendages, she couldnot help liking to look at them, thoughshe was rather ashamed of it). Now sheswung herself near the shore, andcaught hold of the twisted roots of thegreat willow that leaned over the water,and pulled the branches down till theyfell like a green canopy over her; andnow she splashed the water about, forpure pleasure of seeing the diamondshowers as the sunlight caught them.But Hildegarde swam out into themiddle of the river, cleaving the bluewater with long, regular strokes; andthen turned on her back, and laycontemplating the universe with infinitecontent.

"You are still in the shade, you poorRosebud!" she cried. "See! I am right inthe sparkle. I can gather gold with bothhands. How many broad pieces willyou have " She sent a shower of dropstoward the shore, which Rose returnedwith interest; and a battle-royal ensued,in which the foam flew left and right,and the smooth water was churned intoa thousand eddies.

"I am the Plesiosaurus!" criedHildegarde, giving a mighty splash."Beware! beware! my flashing eyes, myfloating hair!"

"Shade of Coleridge, forgive her!"

exclaimed Rose, dashing a return volleyof pearly spray. "And the Plesiosaurushad no hair; otherwise, I may say I haveoften observed the resemblance. Well, Iam the Ichthyosaurus! You rememberthe picture in the 'Journey to the Centreof the Earth' "

Hildegarde replied by plunging towardher, rearing her head in as serpentine amanner as she could command; andafter a struggle the two mighty saurianswent down together in a whirlpool offrothing waves. They came up quite outof breath, and sat laughing and pantingon the willow root, which in one placecurved out in such a way as to make acharming seat.

"Look at Grandfather Bullfrog!" saidRose. "He is shocked at our behavior.We are big enough to know better,aren't we, sir " She addressed with deeprespect an enormous brown bullfrog,who had come up to see what was thematter, and who sat on a stonesurveying the pair with a look ofindignant amazement.

"Coax! coax! Brek-ke-ke-kex!" criedHildegarde. "That is the only sentenceof frog-talk I know. It is in a story ofHans Andersen's. Do you see, Rose Heunderstands; he winked in a mostexpressive manner. Whom did you getfor a wife, when you found Tommelise

had run away from you; and whatbecame of the white butterfly "

The bullfrog evidently resented thisinquiry into his most private affairs, anddisappeared with an indignant"Glump!"

"Now you shall see me perform thegreat Nose and Toe Act!" saidHildegarde, jumping from the seat andswimming to the end of the wharf. "Ipromised to show it to you, youremember." She seized the great toe ofher left foot with the right hand, andgrasping her nose with the left, threwherself backward into the water.

Rose waited in breathless suspense forwhat seemed an interminable time; butat length there was a glimmer under thewater, then a break, and up came thedauntless diver, gasping buttriumphant, still grasping the nose andtoe.

"I didn't let go!" she panted. "I didn'thalf think I could do it, it is so longsince I tried."

"I thought you would never come upagain!" cried Rose. "It is a dreadfulthing to do. You might as well be theGreat Northern Diver at once. Are yousure there isn't a web growing betweenyour toes "

"Oh, that is nothing!" said Hildegarde,laughing. "You should see Papa turnback somersaults in the water. That isworth seeing! Look!" she added, amoment after, "there is a log floatingdown. I wonder if I can walk on it."She swam to the log, which was cominglazily along with the current; tried toclimb on it, and rolled over with itpromptly, to Rose's great delight. But,nothing daunted, she tried again andyet again, and finally succeeded instanding up on the log, holding out herarms to balance herself. A pretty pictureshe made, lithe and slender as a reed,her fair face all aglow with life andmerriment, and the sunshine all round

her. "See!" she cried, "I am Taglioni, thequeen of the ballet. I had a oh! I nearlywent over that time I had a paper-dollonce, named Taglioni. She was trulylovely! You stood her on a piece ofwood just like this; only there was acrack which held her toes, and this hasno crack. Now I will perform theGrand Pas de Fee! La-la-tra-la if I canonly get to this end, now! Rose, I forbidyou to laugh. You shake the log withyour empty mirth. La-la-la " Here thelog, which had its own views, turnedquietly over, and the queen of the balletdisappeared with a loud splash, whileRose laughed till she nearly lost hold ofher rope.

But now the water-frolic had lastedlong enough, and it was nearlybreakfast-time. Very reluctantly the girlsleft the cool delight of the water, andshaking themselves like twoNewfoundland dogs, ran into the boat-house, with many exclamations over thegood time they had had.

At breakfast they found Miss Wealthylooking a little troubled over a notewhich she had just received by mail. Itwas from Mrs. Murray, the matron ofthe Children's Hospital.

"Perhaps you would read it to me,Hilda dear!" she said. "I cannot make itout very well. Mrs. Murray's hand is

very illegible, or it may be partlybecause I have not my reading-glasses."So Hilda read as follows:

DEAR MISS BOND, Is there any onein your neighborhood who would takea child to board for a few weeks LittleBenny May, a boy of four years, verybright and attractive, is having a slowrecovery from pneumonia, and has hadone relapse. I dare not send him home,where he would be neglected by a verycareless mother; nor can we keep himlonger here. I thought you mightpossibly know of some good, motherlywoman, who would take the littlefellow, and let him run about in thesunshine and drink milk, for that is

what he needs.

With kind regards to your niece, whomI hope we shall see again,

Always sincerely yours, ELIZABETHMURRAY.

Miss Wealthy listened attentively, andshook her head; buttered a muffin,stirred her tea a little, and shook herhead again. "I can't think," she saidslowly and meditatively, "of a soul. Ireally " But here she was interrupted,though not by words. For Hildegardeand Rose had been exchanging a wholebattery of nods and smiles andkindling glances; and now the former

sprang from her seat, and came andknelt by Miss Wealthy's chair, andlooked up in her face with mute buteloquent appeal.

"My dear!" said the old lady. "What is itwhat do you want Isn't the eggperfectly fresh I will call " ButHildegarde stayed her hand as it movedtoward the bell.

"I want Benny!" she murmured, in lowand persuasive tones, caressing the softwithered hand she had taken.

"A penny!" cried Miss Wealthy. "My dearchild, certainly! Any small amount I willmost gladly give you; though, dear

Hilda, you are rather old, perhaps, atleast your mother might think so, to "

"Oh, Cousin Wealthy, how can you "cried Hildegarde, springing up, andturning scarlet, though she could nothelp laughing. "I didn't say penny, I saidBenny! I want the little boy! Rose and Iboth want him, to take care of. Mayn'twe have him, please We may not bemotherly, but we are very sisterly, atleast Rose is, and I know I could learn,and we would take such good care ofhim, and we do want him so!" Shepaused for breath; and Miss Wealthyleaned back in her chair, and lookedbewildered.

"A child! here!" she said; and shelooked round the room, as if she ratherexpected the pictures to fall from thewalls at the bare idea. In this survey sheperceived that one picture hung slightlyaskew. She sighed, and made a motionto rise; but Hildegarde flew tostraighten the refractory frame, andthen returned to the charge.

"He is very small!" she said meekly. "Hecould sleep in my room, and we wouldwash and dress him and keep him quietall the time."

"A child!" repeated Miss Wealthy,speaking as if half in a dream; "a littlechild, here!" Then she smiled a little,

and then the tears filled her soft blueeyes, and she gave something like a sob."I don't know what Martha would say!"she cried. "It might disturb Martha;otherwise "

But Martha was at her elbow, and laid aquiet hand on her mistress's arm. "Surewe would all like it, Mam!" she said inher soothing, even tones. "'T would belike a sunbeam in the house, so itwould. You'd better let the child come,Mam!"

So it was settled; and the very next dayHildegarde and Rose, escorted byJeremiah, went to Fairtown, andreturned in triumph, bringing little

Benny with them.

Benny's eyes were naturally wellopened, but by the time he reached thehouse they were staring very wideindeed. He held Hildegarde's hand verytight, and looked earnestly up at thevine-clad walls of the cottage. "Don'twant to go in vere!" he said, hangingback, and putting his finger in hismouth. "Want to go back!"

"Oh, yes!" said Hildegarde. "You dowant to come in here, Benny. That iswhat we have come for, you know. I amgoing to show you all sorts of prettythings, picture-books, and shells, and ablack kitty "

But here she had touched a string thatwakened a train of reflection inBenny's mind; his lip began to quiver."Want my Nelephant!" he saidpiteously. "He's lef' alone wiv fits. Wantto go back to my Nelephant." Anominous sniff followed; an outbreakof tears was imminent.

Hildegarde caught him up in her armsand ran off toward the garden. Shecould not have him cry, she thought,just at the first moment. CousinWealthy would be upset, and mightnever get rid of the first impression. Itwould spoil everything! The little fellowwas already sobbing on her shoulder,

and as she ran she began hastily torepeat the first thing that came into hermind.

"Come, take up your hats, and away letus haste To the Butterfly's Ball and theGrasshopper's Feast. The trumpeterGadfly has summoned the crew, Andthe revels are now only waiting for you!

"On the smooth-shaven grass by theside of the wood, Beneath a broad oakthat for ages has stood, See the childrenof earth and the tenants of air For anevening's amusement together repair."

The sobs had ceased, and Hildegardepaused for breath; but the arm

tightened round her neck, and the babyvoice, still tearful, cried, "Sing! Sing-girlwant to sing!"

"Oh me!" cried Hildegarde, laughing."You little Old Man of the Sea, howcan I run and sing too " She sat downunder the laburnum-tree, and takingthe two tiny hands in hers, began to patthem together, while she went on withthe "Butterfly's Ball," singing it now tothe tune of a certain hornpipe, whichfitted it to perfection. She had notheard the verses since she was a littlegirl, but she could never forget thedelight of her childhood.

"And there came the Beetle, so blind

and so black, Who carried the Emmet,his friend, on his back. And there camethe Gnat, and the Dragon-fly too, Withall their relations, green, orange, andblue.

"And there came the Moth "

At this moment came something else,more welcome than the moth wouldhave been; for Rose appeared, bearing amug in one hand, and in the other what

"Cow!" cried Benny, sitting upright, andstretching out both arms in rapture."My cow! mine! all mine!"

"Yes, your cow, dear, for now!" said

Rose, setting the treasure down on thetable. "Look, Benny! she is such a goodcow! She is going to give you somemilk, nice, fresh milk!"

The brown crockery cow was indeed amilk-jug; and Benny's blue eyes andHildegarde's gray ones opened wide inamazement as Rose, grasping thecreature's tail and tilting her forward,poured a stream of milk from her openmouth into the mug. The child laughed,and clapped his hands with delight.

"Where did you get it " askedHildegarde in a low tone, as she heldthe mug to Benny's lips.

"Saint Martha!" replied Rose, smiling."It belonged to her grandmother. Shebrought it down just now, and said shehad seen many a child quieted with it,and the little one would very likely befor crying at first, in a strange place!Isn't it nice "

"Nice!" said Hildegarde; "I never wantto drink out of anything else but abrown cow. Dear Martha! and observethe effect!"

Indeed, Benny was laughing, andpatting the cow, and chattering to it, asif no such thing as a gray rubberelephant had ever existed. So fickle ischildhood!

CHAPTER XII.

BENNY.

Benny took possession of hiskingdom, and ruled it with a firm,though for the most part an indulgenthand. Miss Wealthy succumbed fromthe first moment, when he advancedboldly toward her, and laying a chubbyhand on her knee, said, "I like you. Isyou' hair made of spoons it is allsilver."

Martha was his slave, and lay in wait for

him at all hours with gingerbread-menand "cooky"-cows; while the two girlswere nurses, playmates, and teachers byturns. Jeremiah wheeled him in thewheelbarrow, and suffered him to kickhis shins, and might often be seensedately at work hoeing or raking, withthe child sitting astride on hisshoulders, and drumming with sturdyheels against his breast. One memberof the family alone resisted thesovereign charm of childhood; onealone held aloof in cold disdain,refusing to touch the little hand oranswer the piping voice. That one wasSamuel Johnson. The great Doctor wasdeeply offended at the introduction ofthis new element into the household.

He had not been consulted; he wouldhave nothing to do with it! So whenMiss Wealthy introduced Benny to himthe day after the child arrived, andwaited anxiously for an expression ofhis opinion, the Doctor put up hisgreat back, expanded his tail till itlooked like a revolving street-sweeper,and uttering an angry "Fsss! spt!"walked away in high dudgeon.

Benny was delighted. "Funny old kyat!"he cried, clapping his hands. "Say 'Fsss'some more! Hi, ole kyat! I catch you."

Hildegarde caught him up in her armsas he was about to pursue the retiringdignitary, and Miss Wealthy looked

deeply distressed.

"My dears, what shall we do " she said."This is very unfortunate. If I hadthought the Doctor but the little fellowis so sweet, I thought he would bepleased and amused. We must try tokeep them away from each other. Orperhaps, if the little dear would try topropitiate the Doctor, you have no ideahow sensitive he is, and how he feelsanything like disrespect, if he were totry to propitiate him, he might "

"Vat ole kyat, He's too fat!"

shouted Benny, stamping his feet toemphasize the metre,

"Vat ole kyat He's too fat! He ought togo AND catch a rat!"

"Come, Benny!" said Hildegarde,hastily, as she caught a glare from theDoctor's yellow eyes that fairlyfrightened her. "Come out with me andget some flowers." And as they wentshe heard Miss Wealthy's voiceaddressing the great cat in humble anddeprecatory tones. As she walked aboutin the garden holding the child's hand,Hildegarde tried to explain to him thathe must be very polite to Dr. Johnson,who was not at all a common cat, andshould be treated with great respect.

But Benny's bump of reverence wassmall. "Huh!" he said. "I isn't 'fraid ofkyats, sing-girl! You 's 'fraid, but I isn't.I had brown kitties, only I never seed'em. Dr. Brown is a liar!" he addedsuddenly, with startling emphasis.

"Why, Benny!" cried Hildegarde. "Whatdo you mean You mustn't say suchthings, dear child."

"He is a liar!" Benny maintained stoutly."He said ve brown kitties was in myfroat. Vey wasn't; so he's a liar. P'r'apshe's 'fraid too, but I isn't."

For several days the greatest care wastaken to keep Benny out of Dr.

Johnson's way. When the imperiousmew was heard at the dining-roomdoor after dinner, the child was hurriedthrough with the last spoonfuls of hispudding, and whisked away to theparlor before the cat was let in. Norwould Miss Wealthy herself go into theparlor when the Doctor had finishedhis dessert, till she was sure that Bennyhad been taken out of doors.Hildegarde was inclined to remonstrateat this course of action, but MissWealthy would not listen to her.

"My dear," she said, "it does not do totrifle with a character like the Doctor's.I tremble to think what he might do ifonce thoroughly roused to anger. He is

accustomed to respect, and demands it;and we must remember, my dear, thateven in the domestic cat lies dormantthe spirit of the Royal Bengal Tiger.No, my dear Hildegarde, we areresponsible for this child's life, and wemust at any cost keep him out of theDoctor's way."

But fate, which rules both cats andtigers, had ordained otherwise. One dayHildegarde had gone out to the stableto give a message to Jeremiah, and hadleft Benny playing by the back door,where Martha had promised to "havean eye to him" as she shelled the peas.

On her return, Hildegarde found thatthe child had run round to the front ofthe house; and she followed in thatdirection, led by the sound of his voice,which resounded loud and clear.Whom was he talking to Hildegardewondered. Rose was upstairs writingletters, and Cousin Wealthy was taking anap. But now the words were plainlyaudible. "Dee ole kitty! Oh, such a deeole kitty! Ole fat kyat, I lubby you."

Holding her breath, Hildegarde peepedround the corner of the house. Thereon the piazza, lay Dr. Johnson, fastasleep in the sunshine; and beside himstood Benny, regarding him with

affectionate satisfaction. "I ain't seedyou for yever so long, ole fat kyat!" hecontinued; "where has you been You isso fat, you make a nice pillow for Benny.Benny go to sleep with ole fat kyat for apillow." And to Hildegarde's mingledhorror and amusement, the child curledhimself up on the piazza floor, anddeliberately laid his head on the broadblack side of the sleepinglexicographer. The great cat opened hisyellow eyes with a start, and turned hishead to see "what thing upon his backhad got." There was a moment ofsuspense. Hildegarde's first impulse wasto rush forward and snatch the childaway; her second was to stand perfectlystill. "Dee ole kitty!" murmured Benny,

in dulcet tones. "P'ease don't move!Benny so comfortable! Benny lubs hissweet ole pillow-kyat! Go to s'eepagain, dee ole kitty!"

The Doctor lay motionless. His eyeswandered over the little figure, thesmall hands nestled in his own thickfur, the rosy face which smiled at himwith dauntless assurance. Who shall saywhat thoughts passed in that momentthrough the mind of the representativeof the Royal Bengal Tiger Presently hismuscles relaxed. His magnificent tail,which had again expanded to thrice itsnatural size, sank; he uttered a faintmew, and the next moment a sound fellon Hildegarde's ear, like the distant

muttering of thunder, or the roll of thesurf on a far-off sea-beach. Dr.Johnson was purring!

After this all was joy. The barriers wereremoved, and the child and the catbecame inseparable companions. MissWealthy beamed with delight, andcalled upon the girls to observe how, inthis most remarkable animal, intellecthad triumphed over the feline nature.She was even a little jealous, when theDoctor forsook his hassock beside herchair to go and play at ball with Benny;but this was a passing feeling. Allagreed, however, that a line must bedrawn somewhere; and when Bennydemanded to have his dinner on the

floor with his "sweet ole kyat," fourheads were shaken at him quite severely,and he was told that cats were good toplay with, but not to eat with. In spiteof which Rose was horrified, the nextday, to find him crouched on all-fours,lapping from one side of the Doctor'ssaucer, while he, purring like a Soundsteamer, lapped on the other.

Benny did another thing one day. Oh,Benny did another thing! Rose wasteaching him his letters in the parlor,and he was putting them into metre, ashe was apt to put everything,

"A, B, C, D, Fiddle, diddle, Yes, I see!"

And with each emphasis he jumped upand down, as if to jolt the letters intohis head.

"Try to stand still, Benny dear!" saidgentle Rose.

But Benny said he couldn't rememberthem if he stood still. "A, B, C, D! E, F,jiggle G!" This time he jumpedbackward, and flung his arms about toillustrate the "jiggle;" and and heknocked over the peacock glass vase,and it fell on the marble hearth, andbroke into fifty pieces. Oh! it was verydreadful. Mrs. Grahame had broughtthe peacock vase from Paris to MissWealthy, and it was among her most

cherished trifles; shaped like a peacock,with outspread tail, and shining withbeautiful iridescent tints of green andblue. Now it lay in glittering fragmentson the floor, and timid Rose felt as ifshe were too wicked to live, and wishedshe were back at the Farm, where therewere no vases, but only honest bluewillow-ware.

At this very moment the door opened,and Miss Wealthy came in. Rose shrankback for a moment behind the tallJapanese screen; not to conceal herself,but to gather her strength together forthe ordeal. Her long years of illness hadleft her sensitive beyond description;and now, though she knew that she had

done nothing, and that the child wouldmeet only the gentlest of plaintivereproofs, her heart was beating so hardthat she felt suffocated, her cheeks werecrimson, her eyes suffused with tears.But Benny was equal to the emergency.His cheeks were very red, too, and hiseyes opened very wide; but he wentstraight up to Miss Wealthy and said ina clear, high-pitched voice,

"I've broke vat glass fing which was apeacock. I'm sorry I broke vat glass fingwhich was a peacock. I shouldn't finkyou would leave glass fings round forlittle boys to hit wiv veir little handsand break vem. You is old enough toknow better van vat. I know you is old

enough, 'cause you' hair is all spoons,and people is old when veir hair isspoons, I mean silver." Having said thiswith unfaltering voice, the childsuddenly and without the slightestwarning burst into a loud roar, andcried and screamed and sobbed as ifhis heart would break.

Rose was at his side in an instant, andtold the story of the accident. AndMiss Wealthy, after one pathetic glanceat the fragments of her favoriteornament, fell to wiping the littlefellow's eyes with her fine cambrichandkerchief, and telling him that itwas "no matter! no matter at all, dear!Accidents will happen, I suppose!" she

added, turning to Rose with a sad littlesmile. "But, my dear, pray get the dust-pan at once. The precious child mightget a piece of glass into his foot, anddie of lockjaw."

CHAPTER XIII.

A SURPRISE.

It was a lovely August morning.Hildegarde and Rose had the peas toshell for dinner, and had establishedthemselves under the great elm-tree,each with a yellow bowl and a blue-checked apron. Hildegarde was

moreover armed with a book, for shehad found out one can read and shellpeas at the same time, and some oftheir pleasantest hours were passed inthis way, the primary occupationranging from pea-shelling to the paringof rosy apples or the stoning of raisins.So on this occasion the sharp crack ofthe pods and the soft thud of the"Champions of England" against thebowl kept time with Hildegarde's voice,as she read from Lockhart's ever-delightful "Life of Scott." The girlswere enjoying the book so much! Fortrue lovers of the great Sir Walter, asthey both were, what could be moreinteresting than to follow their herothrough the varying phases of his

noble life, to learn how and where andunder what circumstances each noblepoem and splendid romance waswritten; and to feel through his ownspoken or written words the beating ofone of the greatest hearts the worldever knew.

Hildegarde paused to laugh, afterreading the description of the first visitof the Ettrick Shepherd to the Scotts atLasswade; when the good man, seeingMrs. Scott, who was in delicate health,lying on a sofa, thought he could notdo better than follow his hostess'sexample, and accordingly stretchedhimself at full length, plaid and all, onanother couch.

"What an extraordinary man!" criedRose, greatly amused. "How could hebe so very uncouth, and yet write the'Skylark' "

"After all, he was a plain, roughshepherd!" replied Hildegarde. "Andremember,

'The dewdrop that hangs from therowan bough Is fine as the proudestrose can show.'

Leyden was a shepherd, too, who wrotethe 'Mermaid' that I read you the otherday; and Burns was a farmer's boy.What wonderful people the Scots are!"

"On the whole," said Rose, after apause, "perhaps it isn't so strange for ashepherd to be a poet. They sit all dayout in the fields all alone with the skyand the sheep and the trees andflowers. One can imagine how thebeauty and the stillness would sink intohis heart, and turn into music andlovely words there. No one ever heardof a butcher-poet or a baker-poet atleast, I never did! but a shepherd! Therewas the Shepherd Lord, too, that youtold me about, and the Shepherd ofSalisbury Plain, in a funny little oldbook that Father had; by Hannah More,I think it was. And wasn't there ashepherd painter "

"Of course! Giotto!" cried Hildegarde."He was only ten years old whenCimabue found him drawing a sheepon a smooth stone."

"It was in one of my school-readers,"said Rose. "Only the teacher called himGuy Otto, and I supposed it was acontraction of the two names, forconvenience in printing. Then," sheadded, after a moment, "there wasDavid, when he was 'ruddy, and of abeautiful countenance.'"

"And Apollo," cried Hildegarde, "whenhe kept the flocks of Admetus, youknow."

"I don't know!" said Rose. "I thoughtApollo was the god of the sun."

"So he was!" replied Hildegarde. "ButJupiter was once angry with him, andbanished him from Olympus. His sun-chariot was sent round the sky as usual,but empty; and he, poor dear, withouthis golden rays, came down to earth,and hired himself as a shepherd toKing Admetus of Thessaly. All theother shepherds were very wild andsavage, but Apollo played to them onhis lyre, and sang of all the beautifulthings in the world, of spring, and theyoung grass, and the birds, and oh!everything lovely. So at last he made

them gentle, like himself, and taughtthem to sing, and play on the flute, andto love their life and the beautiful worldthey lived in. And so shepherds becamethe happiest people in the world, andthe most skilful in playing and singing,and in shooting with bow and arrows,which the god also taught them; till atlast the gods were jealous, and calledApollo back to Olympus. Isn't it apretty story I read it in 'Telemaque,' atschool last winter."

"Lovely!" said Rose. "Yes, I think Ishould like to be a shepherd." Andstraightway she fell into a reverie, thisfoolish Rose, and fancied herselfwrapped in a plaid, lying in a broad

meadow, spread with heather as with amantle, and here and there gray rocks,and sheep moving slowly aboutnibbling the heather.

And as Hildegarde watched her puresweet face, and saw it soften intodreamy languor and then kindle againwith some bright thought, anotherpoem of the Ettrick Shepherd came toher mind, and she repeated the openinglines, half to herself:

"Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen; Butit wasna to meet Duneira's men, Northe rosy monk of the isle to see, ForKilmeny was pure as pure could be."

"Oh, go on, please!" murmured Rose,all unconscious that she was theKilmeny of her friend's thoughts:

"It was only to hear the yorlin sing,And pu' the cress-flower round thespring; The scarlet hypp and thehindberrye, And the nut that hung fraethe hazel-tree: For Kilmeny was pure aspure could be. But lang may her minnylook o'er the wa', And lang may sheseek i' the greenwood shaw; Lang theLaird of Duneira blame, And lang, langgreet or Kilmeny come hame.

"When many a day had come and fled,When grief grew calm, and hope wasdead; When mass for Kilmeny's soul

had been sung, When the bedesmanhad prayed and the dead-bell rung;Late, late in a gloamin', when all wasstill, When the fringe was red on thewestlin hill, The wood was sear, themoon i' the wane, The reek o' the cothung over the plain, Like a little weecloud in the world its lane; When theingle lowed with an eiry leme, Late, latein the gloamin' Kilmeny cam hame."

Here Hildegarde stopped suddenly; forsome one had come along the road,and was standing still, leaning againstthe fence, and apparently listening. Itwas a boy about eleven years old. Hewas neatly dressed, but his clothes werecovered with dust, and his broad-

brimmed straw hat was slouched overhis eyes so that it nearly hid his face,which was also turned away from thegirls. But though he was apparentlygazing earnestly in the oppositedirection, still there was an air ofconsciousness about his whole figure,and Hildegarde was quite sure that hehad been listening to her. She waited afew minutes; and then, as the boyshowed no sign of moving on, shecalled out, "What is it, please Do youwant something "

The boy made an awkward movementwith his shoulders, and without turninground replied in an odd voice, halfwhine, half growl, "Got any cold

victuals, lady "

"Come in!" said Hildegarde, rising,though she was not attracted either bythe voice, nor by the lad's shambling,uncivil manner, "come in, and I will getyou something to eat."

The boy still kept his back turned toher, but began sidling slowly towardthe gate, with a clumsy, crab-likemotion. "I'm a poor feller, lady!" hewhined, in the same disagreeable tone."I ain't had nothin' to eat for a week,and I've got the rheumatiz in my j'ints."

"Nothing to eat for a week!" exclaimedHildegarde, severely. "My boy, you are

not telling the truth. And who everheard of rheumatism at your age Doyou think we ought to let him in, Rose" she added, in a lower tone.

But the boy continued still sidlingtoward the gate. "I've got a wife andseven little children, lady! They're alldown with the small-pox and the yeller" But at this point his eloquence wasinterrupted, for Rose sprang from herseat, upsetting the basket of pods, andrunning forward, seized him by theshoulders.

"You scamp!" she cried, shaking himwith tender violence. "You naughtymonkey, how could you frighten us so

Oh, my dear, dear little lad, how do youdo " and whirling the boy round andtossing off his hat, she revealed toHildegarde's astonished gaze thefreckled, laughing face and merry blueeyes of Zerubbabel Chirk.

Bubble was highly delighted at thesuccess of his ruse. He rubbed hishands and chuckled, then went downon all-fours and began picking up thepea-pods. "Sorry I made you upset thebasket, Pink!" he said. "I say! how wellyou're looking! Isn't she, Miss HildaOh! I didn't suppose you were as wellas this."

He gazed with delighted eyes at his

sister's face, on which the fresh pinkand white told a pleasant tale of healthand strength. She returned his lookwith one of such beaming love and joythat Hildegarde, in the midst of herown heartfelt pleasure, could not helpfeeling a momentary pang. "If my babybrother had only lived!" she thought.But the next moment she was shakingBubble by both hands, and telling himhow glad she was to see him.

"And now tell us!" cried both girls,pulling him down on the groundbetween them. "Tell us all about it!How did you get here Where do youcome from When did you leave NewYork What have you been doing How

is Dr. Flower "

"Guess I've got under Niag'ry Falls, bymistake!" said Bubble, dryly. "Let mesee, now!" He rumpled up his shorttow-colored hair with his favoritegesture, and meditated. "I guess I'llbegin at the beginning!" he said. "Well!"(it was observable that Bubble nolonger said "Wa-al!" and that his speechhad improved greatly during the yearspent in New York, though heoccasionally dropped back into hisformer broad drawl.) "Well! it's beenhot in the city. I tell you, it's been hot.Why, Miss Hilda, I never knew whatheat was before."

"I know it must be dreadful, Bubble!"said Hildegarde. "I have never been intown in August, but I can imagine whatit must be."

"I really don't know, Miss Hilda,whether you can," returned Bubble,respectfully. "It isn't like any heat I everfelt at home. Can you imagine yourbrains sizzling in your head, like a kettleboiling "

"Oh, don't, Bubble!" cried Rose. "Don'tsay such things!"

"Well, it's true!" said the boy. "That'sexactly the way it felt. It was like beingin a furnace, a white furnace in the day-

time, and a black one at night; that wasall the difference. I had my headshaved, it's growed now, but I'm goingto have it done again, soon as I getback, and wore a flannel shirt and thoselinen pants you made, Pinkie. I tell youI was glad of 'em, if I did laugh at 'emat first and so I got on. I wrote you thatDr. Flower had taken me to do errandsfor him during vacation " The girlsnodded. "Well, I stayed at his house, it'sa jolly house! and 't was as cool there asanywhere. I went to the hospital withhim every day, and I'm going to be asurgeon, and he says I can."

Hildegarde smiled approval, and Rosepatted the flaxen head, and said, "Yes, I

am sure you can, dear boy. Do youremember how you set the chicken's leglast year "

"I told the doctor about that," saidBubble, "and he said I did it right.Wasn't I proud! I held accidents forhim two or three times this summer,"he added proudly. "It never made mefaint at all, though it does most peopleat first."

"Held accidents " asked Hildegarde,innocently. "What do you mean, laddie"

"People hurt in accidents!" replied theboy. "While he set the bones, you know.

There were some very fine ones!" andhe kindled with professionalenthusiasm. "There was one man whohad fallen from a staging sixty feet high,and was all "

"Don't! don't!" cried both girls, inhorror, putting their fingers in theirears.

"We don't want to hear about it, youdreadful boy!" said Hildegarde. "We arenot going to be surgeons, be goodenough to remember."

"Oh, it's all right!" said Bubble,laughing. "He got well, and is about oncrutches now. Then there was a case of

trepanning. Oh, that was so beautiful!You must let me tell you about that. Yousee, this man was a sailor, and he fellfrom the top-gallantmast, and struck "But here Rose's hand was laid resolutelyover his mouth, and he was told that ifhe could not refrain from surgicalanecdotes, he would be sent back toNew York forthwith.

"All right!" said the embryo surgeon,with a sigh; "only they're about all Ihave to tell that is really interesting.Well, it grew hotter and hotter. Dr.Flower didn't seem to mind the heatmuch; but Jock and I well, we did."

"Oh, my dear little Jock!" cried

Hildegarde, remorsefully. "To think ofmy never having asked for him. How isthe dear doggie "

"He's all right now," replied Bubble,"But there was one hot spell lastmonth, that we thought would finishthe pup. Hot Well, I should I mean, Ishould think it was! You had to putyour boots down cellar every night, orelse they'd be warped so you couldn'tput 'em on in the morning."

"Bubble!" said Hildegarde, holding upa warning finger. But Bubble would notbe repressed again.

"Oh, Miss Hilda, you don't know

anything about it!" he said; "excuse me,but really you don't. The sidewalkswere so hot, the bakers just put theirdough out on them, and it was bakedin a few minutes. All the Fifth Avenuefolks had fountain attachments put onto their carriages, and sprinkledthemselves with iced lavender waterand odycolone as they drove along; andthe bronze statue in Union Squaremelted and ran all over the lot."

"Rose, what shall we do to this boy "cried Hildegarde, as the youthfulMunchausen paused for breath. "Andyou aren't telling me a word about myprecious Jock, you little wretch!"

"One night," Bubble resumed, "I'm inearnest now, Miss Hilda, one night itseemed as if there was no air tobreathe; as if we was just taking red-hotdust into our lungs. Poor little Jockseemed very sick; he lay and moanedand moaned, like a baby, and keptlooking from the doctor to me, as if hewas asking us to help him. I was prettynigh beat out, too, and even the doctorseemed fagged; but we could stand itbetter than the poor little beast could. Isat and fanned him, but that didn't helphim much, the air was so hot. Then thedoctor sent me for some cracked ice,and we put it on his head and neck,and that took hold! 'The dog's in afever!' says the doctor. 'We must watch

him to-night, and if he pulls through,I'll see to him in the morning,' says he.Well, we spent that night taking turns,putting ice on that dog's head, andfanning him, and giving him water."

"My dear Bubble!" said Hildegarde, hereyes full of tears. "Dear good boy! andkindest doctor in the world! How shallI thank you both "

"We weren't going to let him die," saidBubble, "after the way you saved his lifelast summer, Miss Hilda. Well, he didpull through, and so did we; but I waspretty shaky, and the morning camered-hot. The sun was like copper whenit rose, and there seemed to be a sort of

haze of heat, just pure heat, hangingover the city. And Dr. Flower says,'You're going to git out o' this!' says he."

"I don't believe he said anything of thekind!" interrupted Rose, who regardedDr. Flower as a combination of Bayard,Sidney, and the Admirable Crichton.

"Well, it came to the same thing!"retorted Bubble, unabashed. "Anyhow,we took the first train after breakfastfor Glenfield."

"Oh, oh, Bubble!" cried both girls,eagerly. "Not really "

"Yes, really!" said Bubble. "I got to the

Farm about ten o'clock, and went upand knocked at the front door, thinkingI'd give Mrs. Hartley a surprise, same asI did you just now; but nobody came,so I went in, and found not a soul inthe house. But I knowed I knew shecouldn't be far off; for her knitting layon the table, and the beans it wasSaturday were in the pot, simmeringaway. So I sat down in the farmer's bigchair, and looked about me. Oh, I tellyou, Miss Hilda, it seemed good! Therewas the back door open, and the henspicking round the big doorstep, just theway they used, and the great willowtapping against the window, and a pileof Summer Sweetings on the shelf, allwarm in the sunshine, you know, only

you weren't there, and I kept kind o'hoping you would come in. Do youremember, one day I wanted one ofthem Sweetings, and you wouldn't giveme one till I'd told you about all thefamous apples I'd ever heard of "

"No, you funny boy!" said Hildegarde,laughing. "I have forgotten about it."

"Well, I hain't haven't, I mean!" said theboy. "I couldn't think of a single one,'cept William Tell's apple, and Adamand Eve, of course, and three thatLawyer Clinch's red cow chokedherself with trying to swallow 'em all atonce, being greedy, like the man thatowned her. So you gave me the apple,

gave me two or three; and while I waseating 'em, you told me about theHesperides ones, and the apple ofdiscord, and that that young womanwho ran the race: what was her namesome capital of a Southern State!Milledgeville, was it "

"Atlanta!" cried Hildegarde, burstinginto a peal of laughter; and "Atlanta!you goosey!" exclaimed Rose,pretending to box the boy's ears. "Andit wasn't named for Atalanta at all, wasit, Hildegarde "

"No!" said the latter, still laughingheartily. "Bubble, it is delightful to hearyour nonsense again. But go on, and

tell us about the dear good friends."

"I'm coming to them in a minute," saidBubble; "but I must just tell you aboutJock first. You never saw a dog sopleased in all your life. He went sniffingand smelling about, and barking thoselittle, short 'Wuffs!' as he does when heis tickled about anything. Then he wentto look for his plate. But it wasn't there,of course; so he ran out to see the hens,and pass the time o' day with them.They didn't mind him much; but all ofa sudden a cat came out from thewoodshed, a strange cat, who didn'tknow Jock from a from an elephant.Up went her back, and out went hertail, and she growled and spit like a

good one. Of course Jock couldn'tstand that, so he gave a 'ki-hi!' and afterher. They made time round that yard,now I tell you! The hens scuttled off,clucking as if all the foxes in the countyhad broke loose; and for a minute ortwo it seemed as if there was two orthree dogs and half-a-dozen cats. Well,sir! I mean, ma'am! at last the cat made abolt, and up the big maple by thehorse-trough. I thought she was safethen; but Jock, he gave a spring andcaught hold of the eend of her tail, anddown they both come, kerwumpus, onto the ground, and rolled eend overeend." (It was observable that in theheat of narration Bubble dropped hisschool English, and reverted to the

vernacular of Glenfield.) "But that wasmore than the old cat could stand, andshe turned and went for him. Ha, ha! 'twas 'ki, hi!' out of the other side of hismouth then, I tell ye, Miss Hildy! Younever see a dog so scairt. And jest then,as 't would happen, Mis' Hartley camein from the barn with a basket of eggs,and you may you may talk Greek to me,if that pup didn't bolt right into her, sohard that she sat down suddent on thedoorstep, and the eggs rolled everywhich way. Then I caught him; and thecat, she lit out somewhere, quicker 'n awink, and Mis' Hartley sat up, and saysshe, 'Well, of all the world! ZerubbabelChirk, you may just pick up them eggs,if you did drop from the moon!"

CHAPTER XIV.

TELEMACHUS GOES A-FISHING.

At this point Bubble's narrative wasinterrupted by the appearance ofMartha, making demand for her peas.Bubble was duly presented to her; andshe beamed on him through herspectacles, and was delighted to seehim, and quite sure he must be veryhungry.

"I never thought of that!" criedHildegarde, remorsefully. "When did

you have breakfast, and have you hadanything to eat since "

Bubble had had breakfast at half-pastsix, and had had nothing since. Thegirls were horrified.

"Come into the kitchen this minute!"said Martha, imperatively. So he did;and the next minute he was lookingupon cold beef and johnny-cake andapple-pie, and a pile of doughnuts overwhich he could hardly see Martha'sanxious face as she asked if he thoughtthat would stay him till dinner. "Forboys are boys!" she added, impressively,turning to Hildegarde; "and girls theyare not, nor won't be."

When he had eaten all that even ahungry boy could possibly eat, Bubblewas carried off to be introduced toMiss Wealthy. She, too, was delighted tosee him, and made him more thanwelcome; and when he spoke ofstaying a day or two in theneighborhood, and asked if he couldget a room nearer than the village, shewas quite severe with him, forbade himto mention the subject again, and sentMartha to show him the little room inthe ell, where she said he could becomfortable, and the longer he stayedthe better. It was the neatest, cosiestlittle room, just big enough for a boy,the girls said with delight, when they

went to inspect it. The walls werepainted bright blue, which had rather apeculiar effect; but Martha explainedthat Jeremiah had half a pot of bluepaint left after painting thewheelbarrow and the pails, and thoughthe might as well use it up. Apparentlythe half pot gave out before Jeremiahcame to the chairs, for one of them wasyellow, while the other had red legs anda white seat and back. But the wholeeffect was very cheerful and pleasant,and Bubble was enchanted.

The girls left him to wash his face andhands, and brush the roadside dustfrom his clothes. As he was plunginghis face into the cool, sparkling water in

the blue china basin, he heard a smallbut decided voice addressing him; andlooking up, became aware of a personin kilts standing in the doorway andsurveying him with manifestdisapprobation.

"Hello, young un!" said Bubble,cheerily. "How goes the world with you"

"Vat basin ain't your basin!" respondedthe person in kilts, with great severity.

Bubble looked from him to the basin,and back again, with amused perplexity."Oh! it isn't, eh " he said. "Well, that's apity, isn't it "

"Vis room ain't your room!" continuedthe new-comer, with increasedsternness; "vis bed ain't your bed! I's veboy of vis house. Go out of ve backdoor! Go 'WAY!"

At the last word Benny stamped hisfoot, and raised his voice to a roarwhich fairly startled his hearer. Bubbleregarded him steadfastly for a moment,and then sat down on the bed andbegan feeling in his pockets. "I foundsomething so funny to-day!" he said. "Iwas walking along the road "

"Go out of ve back door!" repeatedBenny, in an appalling shout.

"And I came," continued Bubble, ineasy, conversational tones, regardless ofthe vindictive glare of the blue eyesfixed upon him, "I came to a great bedof blue clay. Not a bed like this, youknow," for Benny's glare was nowintensified by the expression of scornand incredulity, "but just a lot of it inthe road and up the side of the ditch.So I sat down on the bank to rest alittle, and I made some marbles. See!"he drew from his pocket some veryrespectable marbles, and dropped themon the quilt, where they rolled about inan enticing manner. Benny was openinghis mouth for another roar; but at sightof the marbles he shut it again, and put

his hand in his kilt pocket instinctively.But there were no marbles in hispocket.

"Then," Bubble went on, takingapparently no notice of him, "Ithought I would make some otherthings, because I didn't know but Imight meet some boy who likedthings." Benny edged a little nearer thebed, but spoke no word. "So I made apear," he took the pear out and laid iton the bed, "and a hen," the hen laybeside the pear, "and a bee-hive, and amouse; only the mouse's tail broke off."He laid the delightful things all side byside on the bed, and arranged themarbles round them in a circle. "And

look here!" he added, looking upsuddenly, as if a bright idea had struckhim; "if you'll let me stay here a bit, I'llgive you all these, and teach you to playring-taw too! Come now!" His brightsmile, combined with the treasures onthe bed, was irresistible. Benny's mouthquivered; then the corners went up, up,and the next moment he was sitting onthe bed, chuckling over the hen and themarbles, and the two had known eachother for years.

"But look here!" said the person in kilts,breaking off suddenly in an animateddescription of the brown crockery cow,"you must carry me about on yourback!"

"Why, of course!" responded Bubble."What do you suppose I come here for"

"And go on all-fours when I want youto!" persisted the small tyrant. "'CauseJeremiah has a bone in his leg, andthem girls" oh, black ingratitude ofchildhood! "won't. I don't need you fora pillow, 'cause I has my sweet old fatkyat for a pillow."

"Naturally!" said Bubble. "But if youshould want a bolster any time, just letme know."

"Because I's ve boy of ve house, you

see!" said Benny, in a tone of relief.

"You are that!" responded Bubble, withgreat heartiness.

By general consent, the second half ofZerubbabel's narrative was reserved forthe evening, when Miss Wealthy couldhear and enjoy it. Hildegarde and Rose,of course, found out all about theirkind friends at the Farm; and theformer looked very grave when sheheard that Mr. and Mrs. Hartley wereexpecting Rose without fail early inSeptember, and were counting the daystill her return. But she resolutely shookoff all selfish thoughts, and enteredheartily into the pleasure of doing the

honors of the place for the new-comer.

Bubble was delighted with everything.It was the prettiest place he had everseen. There never was such a garden;there never were such apple-trees,"except the Red Russet tree at theFarm!" he said. "That tree is hard tobeat. 'Member it, Miss Hilda, great bigtree, down by the barn "

"Indeed I do!" said Hilda. "Those arethe best apples in the world, I think;and so beautiful, all golden brown,with the bright scarlet patch on onecheek. Dear apples! I wish I might havesome this fall."

Bubble smiled, knowing that FarmerHartley was counting upon sending hisbest barrel of Russets to his favorite"Huldy;" but preserved a discreetsilence, and they went on down to theboat-house.

When evening came, the group roundthe parlor-table was a very pleasant oneto see. Miss Wealthy's chair was drawnup near the light, and she had her bestcap on, and her evening knitting, whichwas something as soft and white andlight as the steam of the tea-kettle. Nearher sat Hildegarde, wearing a gown ofsoft white woollen stuff, which set offher clear, fresh beauty well. She wasdressing a doll, which she meant to slip

into the next box of flowers that wentto the hospital, for a little girl who wasjust getting well enough to want"something to cuddle;" and her lap wasfull of rainbow fragments of silk andvelvet, the result of Cousin Wealthy'ssearch in one of her numerous piece-bags. On the other side of the table satRose, looking very like her name-flowerin her pale-pink dress; while Bubble, ona stool beside her, rested his arm on hissister's knee, and looked the veryembodiment of content. A tiny fire wascrackling on the hearth, even though itwas still August; for Miss Wealthythought the evening mist from the riverwas dangerous, and dried her air ascarefully as she did her linen. Dr.

Johnson was curled on his hassockbeside the fire; Benny was safe in bed.

"And now, Bubble," said Hildegarde,with a little sigh of satisfaction as shelooked around and thought how coseyand pleasant it all was, "now you shalltell us about your fishing excursion."

"Well," said Bubble, nothing loath, "itwas this way, you see. When I cameback from the Farm, leaving Jock there,I found the doctor in his study, and thewhole room full of rods and lines andreels, and all kinds of truck; and he wasplaying with the queerest things I eversaw in my life, bits of feather and wool,and I don't know what not, with hooks

in them. When he called me to comeand look at his flies I was all up a tree,and didn't know what he was talkingabout; but he told me about 'em, andshowed me, and then says he, 'I'mgoing a-fishing, Bubble, and I'm goingto take you, if you want to go.' Well, Ididn't leave much doubt in his mindabout that. Fishing! Well, you know,Pinkie, there's nothing like it, after all.So we started next morning, Doctorand I, and three other fel I meangentlemen. Two of 'em was doctors,and the third was a funny little man,not much bigger'n me. I wish 't youcould ha' seen us start! Truck Well, Ishould say so! Rods, and baskets, andbait-boxes, and rugs, and pillows, and

canned things, and camp-stools, andtents, and a cooking-stove, and a barrelof beer, and "

"How much of this are you making up,young man " inquired Hildegarde,calmly; while Miss Wealthy paused inher knitting, and looked over herspectacles at Bubble in mildamazement.

"Not one word, Miss Hilda!" repliedthe boy, earnestly. "Sure as you're sittingthere, we did start with all them thosethings. Doctor, of course, knew 't wasall nonsense, and he kept telling theothers so; but they was bound to have'em; and the little man, he wouldn't be

separated from that beer-barrel, not forgold. However, it all turned out right.We were bound for Tapsco stream, yousee; and when we came to the end ofthe railroad, we hired a sledge and ayoke of oxen, and started for thewoods. Seven miles the folks there toldus it was, but it took us two whole daysto do it; and by the time we got to thestream, the city chaps, all 'cept Dr.Flower (and he really ain't half a citychap!) were pretty well tired out, I cantell you. Breaking through the bushes,stumbling over stumps and stones, andh'isting a loaded sledge over the worstplaces, wasn't exactly what they hadexpected; for none of 'em but thedoctor had been in the woods before.

Well, we got to the stream; and therewas the man who was going to be ourguide and cook, and all that. He hadtwo canoes, a big one and a little one;he was going to paddle one, and oneof us the other. Well, the little man hisname was Packard said he'd paddle thesmall canoe, and take the stove and thebeer-barrel, ''cause they'll need carefulhandling,' says he. The old guidelooked at him, when he said that, prettysharp, but he didn't say nothing; andthe rest of us got into the other canoewith the rest of the truck, after we'dput in his load. We started ahead, andMr. Packard came after, paddling asproud as could be, with his barrel inthe bow, and he and the stove in the

stern. I wish't you could ha' seen him,Miss Hilda! I tell you he was a sight,with his chin up in the air, and hismouth open. Presently we heard himsay, 'This position becomes irksome; Ithink I will change' but that was all hehad time to say; for before the guidecould holler to him, he had moved, andover he went, boat and barrel and stoveand all. Ha! ha! ha! Oh, my! if thatwasn't the most comical sight "

"Oh, but, Bubble," cried Hildegarde,hastily, as a quick glance showed herthat Miss Wealthy had turned pale,dropped her knitting, and put her handup to the pansy brooch, "he wasn'thurt, was he Poor little man!"

"Hurt not a mite!" responded Bubble."He come up next minute, puffing andblowing like a two-ton grampus, andstruck out for our canoe. We were alllaughing so we could hardly stir to helphim in; but the doctor hauled him overthe side, and then we paddled over andrighted his canoe. He was in a greatstate of mind! 'You ought to beindicted,' he says to the guide, 'forhaving such a canoe as that. It'sinfamous! it's atrocious! I I I how dareyou, sir, give me such a rickety eggshelland call it a boat ' Old Marks, the guide,looked at him again, and didn't sayanything for a while, but just kept onpaddling. At last he says, very slow, as

he always speaks, 'I guess it's all right,Squire. This is a prohibition State, youknow; and that's a prohibition boat,that's all.' Well, there was some talkabout fishing the things up; but therewas no way of doing it, and Dr. Flowersaid, anyhow, he didn't come to fish forbarrels nor yet for cook-stoves; so wewent on, and there they be are yet, Isuppose. Bimeby we came to Marks'scamp, where we were to stay. It was abark lean-to, big enough for us all, witha nice fire burning, and all comfortable.Doctor and I liked it first-rate; but thecity chaps, they said they must havetheir tents up, so we spent a good partof a day getting the things up."

"And were they more comfortable "asked Rose. "I suppose the gentlemenwere not used to roughing it."

"Humph!" responded Bubble, withsovereign contempt. "Mr. Packard sethis afire, trying to build what he calleda scientific fire, and came near burninghimself up, and the rest of us, let alonethe whole woods. And the second nightit came on to rain, my! how it did rain!and the second tent was wet through,and they were all mighty glad to comeinto the lean-to!"

"This seems to have been a severeexperience, my lad," said Miss Wealthy,with gentle sympathy. "I trust that none

of the party suffered in health from allthis exposure."

"Oh, no, ma'am!" Bubble hastened toassure her. "It was splendid fun!splendid! I never had such a good time.I could fish for a year withoutstopping, I do believe."

Miss Wealthy's sympathetic lookchanged to one of mild disapproval,for she did not like what she called"violent sentiments." "So exaggerated astatement, my boy," she said gently, "isdoubtless not meant to be takenliterally. Fishing, or angling, to use amore elegant word, seems to be a sportwhich gives great pleasure to those who

pursue it. Dr. Johnson, it is true, spokeslightingly of it, and described afishing-rod as a stick with a hook atone end, and ahem! he was probably injest, my dears a fool at the other. ButIzaak Walton was a meek and devoutperson; and my dear father was fond ofangling, and and others I have known.Go on, my lad, with your livelydescription."

Poor Bubble was so abashed by thislittle dissertation that his livelinessseemed to have deserted him entirelyfor the moment. He hung his head, andlooked so piteously at Hildegarde thatshe was obliged to take refuge in a fitof coughing, which made Miss Wealthy

exclaim anxiously that she feared shehad taken cold.

"Go on, Bubble!" said Hildegarde, assoon as she had recovered herself,nodding imperatively to him. "Howmany fish did you catch "

"Oh, a great many!" replied the boy,rather soberly. "Dr. Flower is a first-ratefisherman, and he caught a lot everyday; and the other two doctors caughtsome. But Mr. Packard," here his eyesbegan to twinkle again, and his voicetook on its usual cheerful ring, "poorMr. Packard, he did have hard luck. Thefirst time he threw a fly it caught in atree, and got all tangled up, so 't he was

an hour and more getting his line free.Then he thought 't would be better onthe other side of the stream; so hestarted to cross over, and stepped into adeep hole, and down he sat with asplash, and one of his rubber bootscame off, and he dropped his rod. Ofall the unlucky people I ever saw! I tellyou, 't was enough to make a frog laughto see him fish! Then, of course, he'dgot the water all riled "

"All I beg your pardon riled " askedMiss Wealthy, innocently.

"All muddy!" said Bubble, hastily; "sohe couldn't fish there no more for onewhile. And just then I happened to

come along with a string of trout tenof 'em, and perfect beauties! that I'dcaught with a string and a crooked pin;and that seemed to finish Mr. Packardentirely. Next day he had rheumatism inhis joints, and stayed in camp all day,watching Marks making snow-shoes.The day after that he tried again, andfished all the morning, and caught oneyellow perch and an eel. The eel dancedright up in his face, it did, sure as I'malive, Pink! and scairt him so, I'mblessed if he didn't sit down again ho!ho! ho! on a point o' rock, and slid offinto the water, and lost his spectacles.Oh, dear! it don't seem as if it could betrue; but it is, every word. The next dayhe went home. He'll never go a-fishing

again."

"Poor man! I should think not!" saidRose, compassionately. "But is Dr.Flower are all the others still there "

"Gone home!" said Bubble. "We cameout of the woods three days ago, andtook the train yesterday. I never thoughtof such a thing as stopping; supposed Imust go right back to work. But whenthe brakeman sung out, 'Next stationBywood!' Doctor just says quietly, 'Getyour bag ready, Bubble! You're going toget out at this station.' And when Ilooked at him, all struck of a heap, asyou may say, he says, 'Shut your mouth!you look really better with it shut.

There is a patient of mine staying atthis place, Miss Chirk by name. I wantyou to look her up, make inquiries intoher case, and if you can get lodgings inthe neighborhood, stay till she is readyto be escorted back to New York. It isall arranged, and I have a boy engagedto take your place for two weeks. Now,then! do not leave umbrellas orpackages in the train! Good-by!' Andthere we were at the station; and he justshook hands, and dropped me off onthe platform, and off they went again.Isn't he a good man I tell you, if theywas all like him, there wouldn't be notrouble in the world for anybody." AndRose thought so too!

CHAPTER XV.

THE GREAT SCHEME.

In the latter days of August came a hotwave. It started, we will say, from theGulf, which was heated sevenfold onpurpose, and which simmered andhissed like a gigantic caldron. It camerolling up over the country, scorchingall it touched, spreading its fiery billowseast and west. New York wilted and fellprostrate. Boston wiped the sweat fromher intellectual brow, and panted in allthe modern languages. Even Maine wasnot safe among her rocks and pine-

trees; and a wavelet of pure caloricswept over quiet Bywood, and made itsinhabitants very uncomfortable. MissWealthy could not remember any suchheat. There had been a very hot seasonin 1853, she remembered it because herfather had given up frills to his shirts, asno amount of starch would keep themfrom hanging limp an hour after theywere put on; but she really did notthink it was so severe as this. She wasobliged to put away her knitting, itmade her hands so uncomfortable; andtook to crocheting a tidy with linenthread, as the coolest work she couldthink of. Hildegarde and Rose put onthe thin muslins which had lain allsummer in their clothespress drawers,

and did their best to keep Benny cooland quiet; read Dr. Kane's "ArcticVoyages," and discussed the possibilityof Miss Wealthy's allowing them toshave Dr. Johnson.

Bubble spent much of his time incracking ice and making lemonade,when he was not on or in the river.

As for Martha, she devoted herself tothe concoction of cold dishes, and fedthe whole family on jellied tongue,lobster-salad, ice-cream, and CharlotteRusse, till they rose up and blessed her.

When Flower-Day came, the girlsbraved the heat, and went to Fairtown

with the flowers; Miss Wealthyreluctantly allowing them to go,because she was anxious, as they were,to know how the little patients bore theheat. They brought back a sad report.The sick children were suffering much;the hospital was like a furnace, in spiteof all that could be done to keep itcool. Mrs. Murray sighed for a "countryweek" for them all, but knew no wayof attaining the desired object, as mostof the people interested in the hospitalwere out of town.

"Oh, if we could only find a place!"cried Hildegarde, after she had toldabout the little pallid faces and thefever-heat in town. "If there were only

some empty house," she did not dare tolook at Miss Wealthy as she said this,but kept her eyes on the river (they wereall sitting on the piazza, waiting for theafternoon breeze, which seldom failedthem), "some quiet place, like Islip,where the poor little souls could come,for a week or two, till this dreadful heatis past." Then she told the story ofIslip, with its lovely Seaside Home,where all summer long the poorchildren come and go, nursed andtended to refreshment by the black-cladSisters. Miss Wealthy made no sign, butsat with clasped hands, her work lyingidle in her lap. Rose was very pale, andtrembled with a sense of comingtrouble; but Hildegarde's cheeks were

flushed, and her eyes shone withexcitement.

There were a few moments of absolutesilence, broken only by the hot shrillingof a locust in a tree hard by; thenZerubbabel Chirk, calmly unconsciousof any thrill in the air, any tension ofthe nerves, any crisis impending, pausedin his whittling, and instead of carvinga whistle for Benny, cut the Gordianknot.

"Why, there is a house, close by here,"he said; "not more 'n half a mile off. Iwas going to ask you girls about it. Apretty red house, all spick and span,and not a soul in it, far as I could see.

Why isn't it exactly the place you want "He looked from one to the other withbright, inquiring eyes; but no oneanswered. "I'm sure it is!" he continued,with increasing animation. "There's alawn where the children could play, anda nice clear brook for 'em to paddle andsail boats in, and gravel for 'em to digin, why, it was made for children!" criedthe boy. "And as for the man that ownsit, why, if he doesn't want to stay therehimself, why shouldn't he let some oneelse have it unless he's an old hunks;and even if he is " He stopped short,for Rose had seized his arm with aterrified grasp, and Hildegarde's cleareyes flashed a silent warning.

Miss Wealthy tottered to her feet, andthe others rose instinctively also. Shestood for a moment, her hand at herthroat, her eyes fixed on Bubble,trembling as if he had struck her aheavy blow; then, as the frightened girlsmade a motion to advance, she wavedthem back with a gesture full of dignity,and turned and entered the house,making a low moan as she went.

"Send Martha to her, quick!" saidHildegarde, in an imperative whisper."Fly, Bubble! the back door!"

Bubble flew, as if he had been shotfrom a gun, and returned, wide-eyedand open-mouthed, to find his sister in

tears, and his adored Miss Hilda pacingup and down the piazza with hasty andagitated steps.

"What is it " he cried in dismay. "Whatdid I do What is the matter witheverybody Why, I never "

Hildegarde quieted him with a gesture,and then told him, briefly, the story ofthe house in the wood. Poor Bubblewas quite overcome. He punched hishead severely, and declared that he wasthe most stupid idiot that ever lived.

"I'd better go away!" he cried. "I can'tsee the old lady again. As kind as she'sbeen to me, and then for me to call her

a I guess I'll be going, Miss Hilda; I'mno good here, and only doing harm."

"Be quiet, Bubble!" said Hildegarde,smiling in the midst of her distress."You shall do nothing of the kind.And, Rose, you are not to shed anothertear. Who knows This may be the verybest thing that could have happened.Of course I wouldn't have had you sayit, Bubble, just in that way; but nowthat it is said, I I think I am glad of it. Ishould not wonder I really do hopethat it may have been just the word thatwas wanted."

And so it proved. For an hour after, asthe three still sat on the piazza, two of

them utterly disconsolate, the thirdtrying to cheer them with the hope thatshe was feeling more and more strongly,Martha appeared. There were traces oftears in her friendly gray eyes, but shelooked kindly at the forlorn trio.

"Miss Bond is not feeling very well!"she said. "She is lying down, and thinksshe will not come downstairs thisevening. Here is a note for you, MissHilda, and a letter for the post."

Hildegarde tore open the little foldednote, and read, in Miss Wealthy's pretty,regular hand, these words:

MY DEAR HILDA, Please tell the boy

that I do not mean to be an old hunks,and ask him to post this letter. We willmake our arrangements to-morrow, as Iam rather tired now.

Your affectionate cousin, WEALTHYBOND.

The letter was addressed to Mrs.Murray at the Children's Hospital; andat sight of it Hildegarde threw her armsround Martha's neck, and gave her agood hug. Her private desire was to cry;but tears were a luxury she rarelyindulged in, so she laughed instead.

"Is it all right, Martha," she asked,"really and truly right Because if it is, I

am the happiest girl in the world."

"It is all right, indeed, Miss Hilda!"replied Martha, heartily; "and the bestthing that could have happened, to mymind. Dear gracious! so often as I'vewished for something to break up thatplace, so to speak, and make a livinghouse 'stead of a dead one! And itnever could ha' been done, in mythinking, any other way than this. So it'sa good day's work you've done, andthankful she'll be to you for it when theshock of it is over." Then, seeing thatthe young people were still a little"trembly," as she called it, this best ofMarthas added cheerfully: "It's like tobe a very warm evening, I'm thinking.

And as Miss Bond isn't coming down,wouldn't it be pleasant for you to goout in the boat, perhaps, Miss Hilda,and take your tea with you There's anice little mould of pressed chicken, doyou see, and some lemon jelly on theice; and I could make you up a nicebasket, and 't would be right pleasantnow, wouldn't it, young ladies "

Whereupon Martha was called a saintand an angel and a brick, all in threebreaths; and she went off, well pleased,to pack the basket, leaving great joybehind her.

Late that evening, when Hildegarde wasgoing to bed, she saw the door of Miss

Wealthy's room ajar, and heard hername called softly. She went in, andfound the dear old lady sitting in hergreat white dimity armchair.

"Come here, my dear," said MissWealthy, gently. "I have something toshow you, which I think you will liketo see."

She had a miniature in her hand, theportrait of a young and handsomeman, with flashing dark eyes, and anoble, thoughtful face.

"It is my Victor!" said the old lady,tenderly. "I am an old woman, but he isalways my true love, young and

beautiful. Look at it, my child! It is theface of a good and true man."

"You do not mind my knowing "Hildegarde asked, kissing the soft,wrinkled hand.

"I am very glad of it," replied MissWealthy, "very glad! And in in a littlewhile when I have had time to realize itI shall no doubt be glad of this thisprojected change. You see" she paused,and seemed to seek for a word, "yousee, dear, it has always been Victor'shouse to me. I never I should not havethought of making use of it, likeanother house. It is doubtless muchbetter. In fact, I am sure of it. It has

come to me very strongly that Victorwould like it, that it would please himextremely. And now I blame myself fornever having thought of such a thingbefore. So, my dear," she added,bending forward to kiss Hildegarde'sforehead, "besides the blessings of thesick children, you will win one fromme, and who knows perhaps one froma voice we cannot hear."

The girl was too much moved to speak,and they were silent for a while.

"And now," Miss Wealthy said verycheerfully, "it is bedtime for you, andfor me too. But before you go, I wantto give you a little trinket that I had

when I was just your age. Mygrandmother gave it to me; and thoughI am not exactly your grandmother, Iam the next thing to it. Open that littlecupboard, if you please, and bring me asmall red morocco box which you willfind on the second shelf, in the right-hand corner. There is a brown pill-boxnext to it; do you find it, my love "

Hildegarde brought the box, and onbeing told to open it, found a braceletof black velvet, on which was sewed agarland of miniature flowers, whiteroses and forget-me-nots, wrought inexquisite enamel.

"I thought of it," said the old lady, as

Hildegarde bent over the pretty trinketin wondering delight, "when I saw yourforget-me-not room last winter. Theclasp, you see, is a turquoise; I believe,rather a fine one. My grandfatherbrought it from Constantinople. Apretty thing; it will look well on yourarm. The Bonds all have good arms,which is a privilege. Good-night, dearchild! Sleep well, and be ready toelaborate your great scheme to-morrow."

CHAPTER XVI.

THE WIDOW BRETT.

So it came to pass that at the breakfast-table next morning no one was sobright and gay as Miss Wealthy. She wasfull of the new plan, and made onesuggestion after another.

"The first thing," she said, "is to find agood housekeeper. There is nothingmore important, especially wherechildren are concerned. Now, I havethought of precisely the right person,pre-cisely!" she added, sipping her teawith an air of great content. "Martha,your cousin Cynthia Brett is the verywoman for the place."

"Truly, Mam, I think she is," said

Martha, putting down the butteredtoast on the exact centre of the littleround mat where it belonged; "and Ithink she would do it too!"

"A widow," Miss Wealthy explained,turning to Hildegarde, her kind eyesbeaming with interest, "fond ofchildren, neat as wax, capable, a goodcook, and makes butter equal toMartha's. My dears, Cynthia Brett wasmade for this emergency. Zerubbabel,my lad, are you desirous of attractingattention We will gladly listen to anysuggestion you have to make."

The unfortunate Bubble, who had beendrumming on the table with his spoon,

blushed furiously, muttered anincoherent apology, and wished hewere small enough to dive into hisbowl of porridge.

"And this brings me to another plan,"continued the dear old lady. "Bixby,where Cynthia Brett lives, is anextremely pretty little village, and Ishould like you all to see it. What doyou say to driving over there, spendingthe night at Mrs. Brett's, and comingback the next day, after making thearrangements with her Zerubbabelcould borrow Mr. Rawson's pony, I amsure, and be your escort. Do you likethe plan, Hilda, my dear "

"Oh, Cousin Wealthy," criedHildegarde, "it is too delightful! Weshould enjoy it above all things. Butno!" she added, "what would you dowithout the Doctor You would loseyour drive. Is there no other way ofsending word to Mrs. Brett "

But Miss Wealthy would not hear ofany other way. It was a pity if she couldnot stay at home one day, she said. Sowhen Mr. Brisket, the long butcherfrom Bixby, came that morning, andtowering in the doorway, six feet and ahalf of blue jean, asked if they wanted"a-any ni-ice mut-ton toda-a-ay," hewas intrusted with a note from Marthato her cousin, telling of the projected

expedition, and warning her to expectthe young ladies the next day but one.

The day came, a day of absolute beauty,and though still very hot, notunbearable. Dr. Abernethy had had anexcellent breakfast, with twice his usualquantity of oats, so that he actuallyfrisked when he was brought round tothe door. The whole family assembledto see the little party start. Miss Wealthystood on the piazza, looking like anancient Dresden shepherdess in herpink and white and silver beauty, andgave caution after caution: they mustspare the horse up hill, and never trotdown hill; "and let the good beastdrink, dearie, when you come to the

half-way trough, not too much, butenough moderately to quench histhirst;" etc.

Martha beamed through her silver-rimmed spectacles, and hoped she'dgiven them enough lunch; while Benny,with his hand resting on the head ofhis "ole fat kyat," surveyed them withrather a serious air.

The girls had been troubled aboutBenny. They did not want to leave thelittle fellow, who had announced hisfirm intention of going with them; yetit was out of the question to take him.The evening before, however, Bubblehad had a long talk with "ve boy of ve

house;" and great was the relief of theladies when that youthful potentateannounced at breakfast hisdetermination to stay at home and"take care of ve womenfolks, 'causeJim-Maria [the name by which hepersistently called the melancholyprophet], he's gettin' old, an' somebodyhas to see to fings; and I's ve boy of vehouse, so I ought to see to vem."

When the final moment came, however,it seemed very dreadful to see his ownSing-girl drive away, and Posy, and theother boy too; and Benny's lip began toquiver, and his eyes to grow large andround, to make room for the tears. Atthis very moment, however, Jim-Maria,

who had disappeared after bringing thehorse to the door, came round thecorner, bringing the most wonderfulhobby-horse that ever was seen. It waspainted bright yellow, for that was thecolor Jeremiah was painting the barn.Its eyes were large and black, whichgave it a dashing and spiritedappearance; and at sight of it the Boyof the House forgot everything else inheaven and earth. "Mine horse!" hecried, rushing upon it with outstretchedarms, "all mine, for to wide on! Jim-Maria, get out ov ve way! Goo-by, Sing-girl! goo-by, ev'ryboggy! Benny's goin'to ve Norf Pole!" and he cantered away,triumphant.

Then Hildegarde and Rose, seeing thatall was well, made their adieus with alight heart, and Bubble waved his hat,and Miss Wealthy kissed her hand, andMartha shook her blue checked apronviolently up and down, and off theywent.

* * * * *

The little village of Bixby was in itsusual condition of somnolentcheerfulness, that same afternoon. Themail had come in, being brought inAbner Colt's green wagon from therailway-station two miles away. Theappearance of the green wagon, withits solitary brown bag, not generally too

well filled, and its bundle ofnewspapers, was the signal for all thevillage-loungers to gather about thedoor of the post-office. The busy menwould come later, when the mail wassorted; but this was the supreme hourof the loungers. They did not often getletters themselves, but it was veryimportant that they should see who didget letters; and most of them had anewspaper to look for. Then the joy ofleaning against the door-posts, andwaiting to see if anything wouldhappen! As a rule, nothing did happen,but there was no knowing what joyfulday might bring a new sensation.Sometimes there was a dog-fight. Oncethrilling recollection! Ozias Brisket's

horse had run away ("Think 't 's likely abumble-bee must ha' stung him;couldn't nothin' else ha' stirred him outof a walk, haw! haw!") and hadscattered the joints of meat all aboutthe street.

To-day there seemed little chance ofany awakening event beyond the arrivalof the green cart. It was very warm; thepatient post-supporters were nearlyasleep. Their yellow dogs slumbered attheir feet; the afternoon sun filled thelittle street with vivid golden light.

Suddenly the sound of wheels washeard, of unfamiliar wheels. The post-supporters knew the creak or rattle or

jingle of every "team" in Bixby. Therewas a general stir, a looking up thestreet, in the direction whence thesound came; and then a gaping ofmouths, an opening of eyes, a craningof long necks.

A phaeton, drawn by a comfortable-looking gray horse, was coming slowlydown the street. It approached; itstopped at the post-office door. In it sattwo young girls: one, tall, erect, withflashing gray eyes and brilliant color,held the reins, and drew the horse upwith the air of a practised whip; theother leaned back among the cushions,with a very happy, contented look,though she seemed rather tired. Both

girls were dressed alike in simple gownsof blue gingham; but the simplicity wasof a kind unknown to Bixby, and thegeneral effect was very marvellous. Thespectators had not yet shut theirmouths, when a clattering of hoofs washeard, and a boy on a black pony camedashing along the street, and drew upbeside the phaeton.

"No, it wasn't that house," he said,addressing the two girls. "At least, therewas no one there. Say," he added,turning to the nearest lounger, a sandyperson of uncertain age andappearance, "can you tell us where Mrs.Brett lives "

"The Widder Brett " returned the sandyperson, cautiously. "Do ye mean theWidder Brett "

"Yes, I suppose so," answered the boy."Is there any other Mrs. Brett "

"No, there ain't!" was the succinct reply.

"Well, where does she live " cried theboy, impatiently.

"The Widder Brett lives down yender!"said the sandy person, nodding downthe street. "Ye can't see the house fromhere, but go clear on to the eend, andye'll see it to yer right, a yaller house,with green blinds, an' a yard in front.

You 'kin to the Widder Brett "

"No," said the tall young lady, speakingfor the first time; "we are no relations.Thank you very much! Good-morning!" and with a word to the boy,she gathered up the reins, and droveslowly down the little street.

The post-supporters watched them tillthe last wheel of the phaetondisappeared round the turn; then theyturned eagerly to one another.

"Who be they What d'ye s'pose theywant o' the Widder Brett " was theeager cry. "Says they ain't no bloodrelation o' Mis' Brett's." "Some o' Brett's

folks, likely!" "I allus heerd his folkswas well off."

Meanwhile the phaeton was making itsway along slowly, as I said, for Rosewas tired after the long drive.

"But not too tired!" she averred, inanswer to Hildegarde's anxious inquiry."Oh, no, dear! not a bit too tired, onlyjust enough to make rest mostdelightful. What a funny little street!something like the street in Glenfield,isn't it Look! that might be Miss Bean'sshop, before you took hold of it."

"Oh, worse, much worse!" criedHildegarde, laughing. "These bonnets

are positively mildewed. Rose, I see themould on that bunch of berries."

"Mould!" cried Rose, in mockindignation. "It is bloom, Hilda, a finepurple bloom! City people don't knowthe difference, perhaps."

"See!" said Hildegarde; "this must be'the Widder Brett's' house. What apretty little place, Rose! I am sure weshall like the good woman herself. Takethe reins, dear, while I go and makesure. No, Bubble, I will go myself,thank you."

She sprang lightly out, and after pattingDr. Abernethy's head and bidding him

stand still like the best of dears, sheopened the white gate, which stuck alittle, as if it were not opened every day.A tidy little wooden walk, with a borderof pinks on either side, led up to thegreen door, in front of which was onebroad stone doorstep. Beyond thepinks was a bed of pansies on the onehand; on the other, two apple-trees anda pleasant little green space; whileunder the cottage windows were tiger-lilies and tall white phlox andgeraniums, and a great bush ofsouthernwood; altogether, it was a frontyard such as Miss Jewett would like.

Hildegarde lifted the bright brassknocker, she was so glad it was a

knocker, and not an odious gong bell;she could not have liked a house with agong bell, and rapped gently. The pausewhich followed was not strictlynecessary, for the Widow Brett hadbeen reconnoitring every movement ofthe new-comers through a crack in thewindow-blind, and was now standingin the little entry, not two feet from thedoor. The good woman countedtwenty, which she thought wouldoccupy just about the time necessary tocome from the kitchen, and thenopened the door, with a properexpression of polite surprise on herface.

"Good-day!" she said, with a rising

inflection.

"How do you do " replied Hildegarde,with a falling one. "Are you Mrs. Brett,and are you expecting us "

"My name is Brett," replied the tall,spare woman in the brown stuff gown;"but I wasn't expectin' any one, as Iknow of. Pleased to see ye, though!Step in, won't ye "

"Oh!" cried Hildegarde, lookingdistressed. "Didn't you haven't you hada letter from Martha She promised towrite, and said she was sure you wouldtake us in for the night. I don'tunderstand "

"There!" cried Mrs. Brett. "Step right innow, do! and I'll tell you. This way, ifyou please!" and much flurried, she ledthe way into the best room, and drewup the hair-cloth rocking-chair, inwhich our heroine entombed herself. "Ido declare," the widow went on, "Iought to be shook! There was a lettercome last night; and my spectacles wasbroken, my dear, and I can't readMartha's small handwriting without'em. I thought 't was just one of herletters, you know, telling how they wasgetting on, and I'd wait till one of theneighbors came in to read it to me.Well, there! and all the time she wastelling me something, was she and who

might you be, dear, that was thinkingof staying here "

"I am Hilda Grahame!" said the girl,suppressing an inclination to cry, as thethought of Rose's tired face came overher. "If you will find the letter, Mrs.Brett, I will read it to you at once. Itwas to tell you that I was coming, withmy friend, who is in the carriage now,and her young brother; and Marthathought there was no doubt about yourtaking us in. Perhaps there is someother house "

"No, there isn't," said the Widow Brett,quickly and kindly, "not another one.The idea! Of course I'll take you in,

child, and glad enough of the chance.And you Miss Hildy Grahame, too, thatMarthy has told me so much about!Why, I'm right glad to see ye, rightglad!" She took Hildegarde's hand, andmoved it up and down as if it were apump-handle, her homely face shiningwith a cordiality which was evidentlygenuine. "Only," and here her faceclouded again, "only if I'd ha' known, Ishould have had everything ready, andhave done some cleaning, and cookedup a few things. You'll have to take mejust as I am, I expect! However "

"Oh, we like things just as they are!"cried Hildegarde, in delight. "You mustnot make any difference at all for us,

Mrs. Brett! We shall not like it if youdo. May I bring my friend in now "

"Well, I should say so!" cried the goodwoman. "She's out in the carriage, yousay I'll go right out and fetch her in."

Rose was warmly welcomed, andbrought into the house; while Hildafastened Dr. Abernethy to the gate-post, and got the shawls and hand-bagsout from under the seat.

"I expect you'd like to go right upstairsand lay off your things!" was Mrs.Brett's next remark. "I declare! I dowish 't I'd known! I swep' the sparechamber yesterday, but I hadn't any idea

of its being used. Well, there! you'llhave to take me as I am." She bustledupstairs before the girls, talking all theway. "I try to keep the house clean, butI don't often have comp'ny, and thedust doos gather so, this dry weather,and not keeping any help, you see well,there! this is the best I've got, andmaybe it'll do to sleep in."

She threw open, with mingled prideand nervousness, the door of apleasant, sunny room, rather bare, butin exquisite order. The rag carpet wasbrilliant with scarlet, blue, and green;the furniture showed no smallest speckof dust; the bed looked like asnowdrift. Nevertheless, the good

hostess went peering about, wiping thechairs with her apron, and repeating,"The dust doos gather so! I wouldn't setdown, if I was you, till I've got thechairs done off!"

"Why, Mrs. Brett," cried Hildegarde,laughing merrily, "it is the chairs youshould be anxious for, not ourselves.We are simply covered with dust, fromhead to foot. I think it must be an inchdeep on my hat!" she continued, takingoff her round "sailor" and looking at itwith pretended alarm. "I don't dare toput it down in this clean room."

"Oh, that's all right!" cried the widow,beaming. "Land sakes! I don't care how

much dust you bring in, but I should belawth to have you get any on you here.Well, there! now you need a propergood rest, I'm sure, both of you.Wouldn't you like a cup o' tea now "

Both girls declined the tea, and declaredthat an hour's rest was all they needed;so the good woman bade them "restgood!" and hurried downstairs, to flingherself into a Berserker fit of cooking."Not a thing in the house!" shesoliloquized, as she sifted flour andbeat eggs with the energy ofdesperation, "except cookies anddoughnuts; and Marthy always has

everything so nice, let alone whatthey're used to at home. I'll make up asheet of sponge-cake, I guess, first, andwhile it's baking I can whip up somechocolate frosting and mix a pan ofbiscuit. Le' me see! I might make a jelly-roll, while I'm about it, for there's someof Marthy's own currant jelly that shesent me last fall. They'd ought to havesome hearty victuals for supper, Isuppose; but I declare," she paused,with the egg-beater in her hand,"stuffed aigs'll have to do to-night, Iguess!" she concluded with a sigh."There isn't time to get a chicken ready.Well, there! If I'd ha' known! but they'llhave to take me as I am. I might give'em some fritters, though, to eat with

maple surrup, just for a relish."

While these formidable preparationswere going on against their peace ofbody, the two girls were enjoying anhour of perfect rest, each after her ownmanner. Rose was curled up on thebed, in a delicious doze which was fastdeepening into sound sleep. Hildegardesat in a low chair with a book in herhand, and looked out of the window.She could always rest better with abook, even if she did not read it; andthe very touch of this little wornmorocco volume it was the "GoldenTreasury" was a pleasure to her. Shelooked out dreamily over the pleasantgreen fields and strips of woodland;

for the house stood at the very end ofthe little village, and the country wasbefore and around it. Under thewindow lay the back yard, with a whitelilac-tree in blossom, and a well with along sweep. Such a pleasant place itlooked! A low stone-wall shut it in, thestones all covered with moss and gayred and yellow lichens. Beside the whitelilac, there was a great elm and a yellowbirch. In the latter was an oriole's nest;and presently Hildegarde heard thebird's clear golden note, and saw hisbright wings flash by. "I like this place!"she said, settling herself comfortably inthe flag-bottomed chair. She droppedher eyes to the book in her lap andread,

"Straight mine eye hath caught newpleasures While the landscape round itmeasures: Russet lawns, and fallowsgray, Where the nibbling flocks dostray; Mountains, on whose barrenbreast The laboring clouds do oftenrest; Meadows trim with daisies pied,Shallow brooks, and rivers wide."

Then her eyes strayed over thelandscape again. "There must be abrook over there, behind that line ofwillows!" she thought. "I wonder ifMilton loved willows. There are pinesand monumental oaks in 'Il Penseroso,'but I don't remember any willows. It's apity we have no skylarks here! I do

want Rose to hear a skylark. Dear Rose!dear Milton! Oh I am so comfortable!"

And Hildegarde was asleep.

CHAPTER XVII.

OLD MR. COLT.

Supper was over. The girls hadlaughingly resisted their hostess'sappeal, "Just one more fritter, withanother on each side to keep it warm,though I don't know as they are fit toeat!" and on her positive refusal to letthem help wash the dishes, had retired

to the back doorstep, from which theycould watch the sunset. Here they werejoined by Bubble, who had found alodging for himself, Dr. Abernethy, andthe pony, in the family of Abner Colt,the mail-carrier. He took his place onthe doorstep with the air of one whohas fairly earned his repose.

"Well, Bubble," said Hildegarde, "tell ushow you have fared."

"Oh, very well!" answered the boy,"very well, Miss Hilda! They're a funnyset over there at Mr. Colt's, but theyseem very kind, and they have given mea nice little room in the stable-loft, so 'tI can see to the Doctor any minute."

"How is the dear beast " asked Rose. "Ithought he went a little lame, after hegot that stone in his foot."

"I have bathed the foot," said Bubble,"and it'll be all right to-morrow. OldMr. Colt wanted to give me threedifferent kinds of liniment to rub on it,but hot water is all it needs. He's aqueer old fellow, old Mr. Colt!" headded meditatively. "Seems to live onmedicine chiefly."

"What do you mean " asked the girls.

"Why," said Bubble, "he came in tosupper I hadn't seen him before with a

big bottle under his arm, and a box ofpills in his hand. He came shuffling inin his stocking-feet, and when he sawme he gave a kind of groan. 'Who'sthat ' says he. 'It's a boy come over fromBywood,' says Mrs. Abner, as they callher. 'He's goin' to stop here over night,Father. Ain't you glad to see him Fatherlikes young folks real well!' she says tome. The old gentleman gave a groan,and sat down, nursing his big bottle asif it were a baby. 'D'ye ever have thedyspepsy ' he asked, looking at me. 'No,sir!' said I. 'Never had anything that Iknow of, 'cept the measles.' He groanedagain, and poured something out ofthe bottle into a tumbler. 'You lookkinder 'pindlin',' says he, shaking his

head. 'I think likely you've got it on ye'thout knowin' it. It's sub-tile, dyspepsyis, dreadful sub-tile.'"

"What did he mean subtle " askedHilda, laughing.

"I suppose so!" replied the boy. "Andthen he took his medicine, groaning allthe time and making the worst facesyou ever saw. 'I reckon you'd better takea swallow o' this, my son!' he said. 'It's apre-ventitative, as well 's a cure.'"

"Bubble," cried his sister, "you aremaking this up. Confess, you monkey!"

"I'm not!" said Bubble, laughing. "It's

true, every word of it. I couldn't makeup old Mr. Colt! 'It's a pre-ventitative!'he says, and reaches out his hand formy tumbler. Then Abner, the youngman, spoke up, and told him heguessed I'd be better without it, andthat 't wasn't meant for young people,and so on. 'What is it, Mr. Colt ' Iasked, seeing that he looked real I meanvery much disappointed. He brightenedup at once. 'It's Vino's VegetableVivifier!' he said. 'It's the greatest thingout for dyspepsy. How many bottleshave I took, Leory ' 'I believe this is thetenth, Father!' said Mrs. Abner. 'And Idon't see as 't 's done you a mite o'good!' she said to herself, but so 't Icould hear. 'Thar!' says the old man,

nodding at me, as proud as could be, 'd'ye hear that Ten bottles I've took, at adollar a bottle. Ah! it's great stuff. Ugh!'and he groaned and took a great pieceof mince-pie on his plate. 'Oh, Father!'says the young woman, 'do you thinkyou ought to eat mince-pie, after as sickas you was yesterday ' He was just asmad as hops! 'Ef I'm to be grutchedvittles,' he says, 'I guess it's time for meto be quittin'. I've eat mince-pie seventyyear, man an' boy, and I guess I ain'tgoin' to leave off now. I kin go over toJoel's, if so be folks begrutches me myvittles here.' 'Oh, come, Father!' saysAbner; 'you know Leory didn't meannothing like that. Ef you've got to havethe pie, why, you've got to have it, that's

all.' The old man groaned, and peggedaway at the pie like a good one. 'Ah!' hesaid, 'I sha'n't be here long, anyway.Nobody needn't be afraid o' my eatin'up their substance. Hand me themdoughnuts, Abner. Nothin' seems tohave any taste to it, somehow.'"

"Did he eat nothing but pie anddoughnuts " asked Hilda. "I should beafraid he would die to-night."

"Oh," said Bubble, "you wouldn'tbelieve me if I told you all the thingshe ate. Pickles and hot biscuit andcheese and groaning all the time, andsaying nobody knowed what dyspepsywas till they'd had it. Then, when he'd

finished, he opened the pill-box, whichhad been close beside his plate all thetime, and took three great fat blackpills. 'Have any trouble with yer liver 'says he, turning to me again; 'there isnothin' like these pills for yer liver. Youtake two of these, and you'll feel 'em allover ye in an hour's time, all over ye!' Ithought 't was about time for me to go,so I said I must attend to the horse'sfoot, and went out to the stable. It wasthen that he brought me the three kindsof liniment, and wanted me to rubthem all on, 'so 's if one didn't takeholt, another would.'"

"What a dreadful old ghoul!" criedHildegarde, indignantly. "I don't think

it's safe for you to stay there, Bubble. Iknow he will poison you in some way."

"You're talking about Cephas Colt, Iknow," said the voice of Mrs. Brett; andthe good woman appeared with herknitting, and joined the group on thedoorstep. "He is a caution, Cephas is, acaution! He's been dosing himself forthe last thirty years, and it's a livingmiracle that he is alive to-day Abnerand Leory have a sight o' trouble withhim; but they're real good and patient,more so 'n I should be. Did he showyou his collection of bottles " sheadded, turning to Bubble.

"No," replied the boy. "He did speak of

showing me something; but I was in ahurry to get over here, so I told him Icouldn't wait."

"You'll see 'em to-morrow, then!" saidthe widow. "It's his delight to show 'emto strangers. Four thousand and oddbottles he has, all physic bottles, thathave held all the stuff he and his folkshave taken for thirty years."

"Four thousand bottles!" cried herhearers, in dismay.

"And odd!" replied the widow, withemphasis. "He's adding new ones all thetime, and hopes to make it up to fivethousand before he dies. Large ones

and small, of course, and lotions andall. He takes every new thing that comesalong, reg'lar. He has his wife's bottlesall arranged in a shape, kind o'monument-like. They do say he wantedto set them up on her grave, but I guessthat's only talk."

"How long ago did she die " askedRose.

"Three year ago, it is now!" said Mrs.Brett. "Dosed herself to death, we allthought. She was just like him! Folksused to say they had pills and catnip-teafor dinner the day they was married.You know how folks will talk! It's a factthough" here she lowered her voice

"and I'd ought not to gossip about myneighbors, nor I don't amongthemselves much, but strangers seemdifferent somehow, anyhow, it is a factthat he wanted to put a scandalousinscription on her monument in thecemetery, and Abner wouldn't let him;the only time Abner ever stood outagainst his father, as I know of."

"What was the inscription " askedHildegarde, trying hard to look as graveas the subject required.

"Well, you mustn't say I told you!" saidthe Widow Brett, lowering her voicestill more, and looking about with anair of mystery, "'t was

'Phosphoria helped her for a spell; ButDeath spoke up, and all is well.'

'Sh! you mustn't laugh!" she added, asthe three young people broke into pealsof laughter. "There! I'd ought not tohave told. He didn't mean nothingimproper, only to express resignation tothe will o' Providence. Well, there! thetongue's an onruly member. And soyou young ladies thought you'd like tosee Bixby, did ye " she added, for thethird or fourth time. "Well, I'm sure!Bixby'd oughter be proud. 'T is a sightlyplace, I've always thought. You must goover t' the cemetery to-morrow, and seewhat there is to see."

"Yes, we did want to see Bixby,"answered straightforward Hildegarde;"but we came still more to see you, Mrs.Brett. Indeed, we have a very importantmessage for you."

And beginning at the beginning,Hildegarde unfolded the great scheme.Mrs. Brett listened, wide-eyed,following the recital with appreciativemotions of lips and hands. When itwas over, she seemed for once at a lossfor words.

"I well, there!" she said; and shecrumpled up her apron, and thensmoothed it out again. "I why, I don't

know what to say. Well! I'm completely,as you may say, struck of a heap. I don'tknow what Marthy's thinking of, I'msure. It isn't me you want, surely. Youwant a woman with faculty!"

"Of course we do!" cried both girls,laughing. "That is why we have come toyou."

"Sho!" said Mrs. Brett, crumpling herapron again, and trying not to lookpleased. "Why, young ladies, I couldn'tdo it, no way in the world. There's mychickens, you see, and my cow, let alonethe house; not but what Joel (that's mynephew) would be glad enough to takekeer of 'em. And goin' so fur away, as

you may say though 't would bepleasant to be nigh Marthy we wasalways friends, Marthy and me, since wewas girls and preserves to make, andfall cleanin' comin' on, and help soskurce as 'tis why, I don't know whatMarthy's thinkin' of, really I don't.Children, too! why, I do love children,and I shouldn't never think I hadthings comfortable enough for 'em; notbut that's a lovely place, pretty as ever Isee. I helped Marthy clean it one spring,and such a fancy as I took to thatkitchen, why, there! and the little roomover it; I remember of saying to Marthy,says I, a woman might live happy inthose two rooms, let alone the backyard, with all that nice fine gravel for

the chickens, I says. But there! Icouldn't do it, Miss Grahame, no wayin the world. Why, I ain't got more'nhalf-a-dozen aprons to my back; sonow you see!"

This last seemed such a very funnyreason to give, that the three youngpeople could not help laughing heartily.

"Martha has dozens and dozens ofaprons, Mrs. Brett," said Hildegarde."She has a whole bureau full of them,because she is afraid her eyes may giveout some day, and then she will not beable to make any more. And now, justthink a moment!" She laid her hand onthe good woman's arm, and continued

in her most persuasive tones: "Think ofliving in that pleasant house, with thepretty room for your own, and thesunny kitchen, and the laundry, allunder your own management."

"Set tubs!" said Mrs. Brett, in a patheticparenthesis. "If there's one thing I'veallers hankered after, more 'n another,it's a set tub!"

"And the dear little children playingabout in the garden, and coming to youwith flowers, and looking to you asalmost a second mother "

"Little Joel," cried the widow, puttingher apron to her eyes, and beginning to

rock gently to and fro "I've allus feltthat blessed child would ha' lived, ifhe'd ha' been left with me. There! Joel'sbeen a good nephew, there couldn't noone have a better; but his wife and me,we never conjingled. She took the childaway, and it peaked and pined fromthat day. Well, there! the ways aremysterious!"

"And you would take the chickens andthe cow with you, of course," thisartful girl went on; "for the childrenmust have milk and eggs, and I nevertasted more delicious milk than this ofyours."

"I've no cause to be ashamed of the

cow!" said the widow, still rocking."There isn't a cow equal to her roundMarthy's way. I've heerd Marthy say so.Sixteen quarts she gives, and I do 'clareit's most half cream. Jersey! there isn'tmany Jerseys round Marthy's way."

"And then the comfort you would beto Martha and to dear Miss Bond!"Rose put in. "Martha has a good dealof rheumatism in winter, you know,and she says you are such a good nurse.She told me how you rubbed her in herrheumatic fever. She thinks you savedher life, and I am sure you did."

"If I rubbed Marthy Ellen Banks onefoot, I rubbed her a hundred miles!"

said Mrs. Brett, with a faint gleam in hermoist eyes. "'From her tombstun backto a well woman is a good way,' Dr.Jones says to me, 'and that way you'verubbed Marthy Ellen, Mis' Brett!' sayshe. Good man Dr. Jones is, none better!There isn't no one round Bixby candoctor my sciatica as he did when I wasstayin' to Mis' Bond's last year. Mis'Bond, too, well, there! she was a motherto me. Seemed like 't was more homethere than Bixby was, since little Joeldied. Mysterious the ways is! Mr.Rawlins well " she added, after amoment's pause.

"Mr. Oh, Jeremiah!" cried Hildegarde,after a moment of bewilderment.

"Jeremiah is very well, all except acough; and, dear me! Mrs. Brett, Ihaven't given you his message. 'Tell Mrs.Brett,' he said, almost the last thingbefore we came away this morning, 'tellMrs. Brett she'll have to come, to makeme a treacle-posset for my cough. Noteven Martha can make treacle-possetlike hers!' Those were Jeremiah's verywords, Mrs. Brett."

A faint color stole into the widow'sthin cheeks. She sat up straight, andbegan to smooth out her apron. "MissGrahame," she said emphatically, "Iverily believe you could persuade a catout of a bird's-nest. If it seems I'mreally needed over to Bywood I don't

hardly know how I can go but well,there! you've come so fur, and I do liketo 'commodate; so well, I don't reallysee how I can but I will!"

CHAPTER XVIII.

JOYOUS GARD.

It was the tenth day of September, andas pleasant a day as one could wish tosee. The sun shone brightly everywhere;but Hildegarde thought that thelaughing god sent his brightest goldenrays down on the spot where she wasstanding. The House in the Wood no

longer justified its name; for the treeshad been cut away from around it, onlya few stately pines and ancienthemlocks remaining to mount guardover the cottage, and to make pleasantshady places on the wide, sunny lawnsthat stretched before and behind it. Thebrook no longer murmured unseen,but laughed now in the sunlight, andreflected every manner of pretty thing,fleecy cloudlet, fluttering bird orbutterfly, nodding fern or soldierly"cat-tail."

The house itself looked alert and wide-awake, with all its windows thrownopen, and its door standing hospitablyajar, as if awaiting welcome guests.

From an upper window came a soundof singing, for Rose was there,arranging flowers in the vases; fromanother direction was heard the ring ofa hammer, as Bubble gave the laststrokes to a wonderful cart which hehad been making, and which was to behis contribution to the Country Home.

Hildegarde stood on the piazza, alone;her hands were full of flowers, and the"laughing light" of them was reflectedin her bright, lovely face. She lookedabout her on the sunny greenery, on theblue shining stream, up to the bluer skyabove. "This is the happiest day of mylife!" said the girl, softly. She wonderedwhat she had done, that all this joy and

brightness should be hers. Every onewas so good to her; every one hadhelped so kindly in the undertaking,from the beginning down to this happyend. There had been a good deal to bedone, of course; but it seemed as ifevery hand had been outstretched toaid this work of her heart.

Cousin Wealthy, of course, had made itpossible, and had been absorbed in it,heart and soul, as had all the others ofthe household. But there had also beenso many pleasant tokens from outside.When Mrs. Brett arrived a week before,to take charge of the house, shebrought a box of contributions fromher neighbors in Bixby, to whom she

had told the story of the CountryHome, scrap-books, comforters, rag-babies, preserves, pop-corn,pincushions, catsup, kettle-holders.Bixby had done what it could, and thegirls and Miss Wealthy and Martha weredelighted with everything; but there wasmuch laughter when the widow pulledout a huge bottle of Vino's VegetableVivifier, and presented it, with a twinklein her eye, as the gift of Mr. CephasColt. Nor had the scattered villagers ofBywood been less generous. One goodfarmer had brought a load of wood;another, some sacks of Early Rosepotatoes; a third presented a jar of Junebutter; a fourth, some home-mademaple-syrup. The wives and daughters

had equalled those of Bixby in theirgifts of useful trifles; and Rose, whowas fond of details, calculated thatthere were two tidies for every chair inthe house.

The boys of the neighborhood, whohad at first shown a tendency to sitround on stumps and jeer at theproceedings, had now, at Hildegarde'ssuggestion, formed themselves into aKindling-Wood Club, under Bubble'sleadership; and they split wood everyafternoon for an hour, with such goodresults that Jeremiah reckoned theywouldn't need no coal round this place;they could burn kindlin's as reckless asif they was somebody's else hired gal!

Then, the day before, a great cart hadrumbled up to the door, bringing apacking-case, of a shape which madeHildegarde cry out, and clap her hands,and say, "Papa! I know it is Papa!" whichfor the moment greatly disconcertedthe teamster, who had no idea ofcarrying people's papas round in boxes.But when the case was opened, therewas the prettiest upright piano that everwas seen; and sure enough, a noteinside the cover said that this was "forHildegarde's Hobby, from Hildegarde'sPoppy." But more than that! the spacebetween the piano and the box wascompletely filled with picture-books,layers and layers of them; Walter Crane,

and Caldecott, and Gordon Browne,and all the most delightful picture-books in the world. And in each bookwas written "The Rainy-Day Library;"which when Hildegarde saw, she beganto cry, and said that her mother was themost blessed creature in the world.

But after all, the thing that had touchedthe girl's heart most deeply was thearrival, this very morning, of oldGalusha Pennypacker, shuffling alongwith his stick, and bent almost doubleunder the weight of a great sack whichhe carried on his back. Mrs. Brett hadbeen looking out of the window, andannounced that a crazy man wascoming: "Looks like it, anyway. Hadn't I

better call Zee-rubble, Miss Grahame "

But Hildegarde looked out, recognizedthe old man, and flew to meet him."Good-morning, Mr. Pennypacker!"she cried cordially. "Do let me help youwith that heavy bag! There! now sitdown here in the shade, for I am sureyou are very tired."

She brought a chair quickly; and the oldman sank into it, for he was indeedexhausted by the long walk under hisheavy burden. He gasped painfully forbreath; and it was not till Hildegardehad brought him water, and fannedhim diligently for some minutes, that hewas able to speak.

"Thank ye!" he said at last, drawing outsomething that might once have been ahandkerchief, and wiping his wrinkledface. "It's a warm day for walkin'."

"Yes, indeed it is!" Hildegarde assented."And it is a long walk from your house,Mr. Pennypacker. I fear it has been toomuch for you. Could you not have gotone of the neighbors to give you a lift "

"No! no!" replied the old man quickly,with a cunning gleam in his sharp littleeyes. "I'd ruther walk, I'd ruther!Walkin' don't cost nothin'! They'dcharged me, like's not, a quarter forfetchin' on me here. They think the old

man's got money, but he hain't; no, hehain't got one red cent, not for them hehain't." He paused, and began fumblingat the string of the sack. "Hearin' youwas settin' up a horspittle here," he said,"I cal'lated to bring two or three apples.Children likes apples, don't they " Helooked up suddenly, with the samefierce gleam which had frightenedHildegarde and Rose so when they firstsaw him; but Hildegarde had no longerany fear of the singular old man.

"Yes, they do!" she said warmly. "I don'tknow of anything they like so well, Mr.Pennypacker. How very kind of you!And you came all this way on foot, tobring them "

"The' warn't no shorter way!" repliedold Galusha, dryly. "Thar'! I reckonthem's good apples."

They were superb Red Astrakhans;every one, so far as Hildegarde couldsee, perfect in shape and beauty.Moreover, they had all been polishedtill they shone mirror-like. Hildegardewondered what they had been rubbedwith, but dismissed the thought, as oneunwise to dwell upon.

"They's wuth money, them apples!" saidthe old man, after she had thanked himagain and again for the timely gift."Money!" he repeated, lingering on the

word, as if it were pleasant to the taste."Huh! there ain't nobody else on theyearth I'd ha' give so much as a core ofone of 'em to, 'cept you, youngwoman."

"I'm sure you are extremely kind, Mr.Pennypacker!" was all Hildegarde couldsay.

"Ye've took thought for me!" said theold man. "The' ain't nobody tookthought for old G'lushe Pennypacker,round here, not for a good while. Yewas to my place yesterday, warn't ye "He looked up again, with a suddenglare.

"Yes," Hildegarde admitted, "I was; andmy friend too. She knit the stockingsfor you, sir. I hope you liked them."

"Yes, yes!" said the old man, absently."Good stockin's, good stockin's! Nicegal she is too. But 't was you left thebook, warn't it, hey "

"Yes," said Hildegarde, blushing. "I amso fond of 'Robinson Crusoe' myself, Ithought you might like it too."

"Hain't seen that book for fifty year!"said the old man. "Sot up all last nightreadin' it. It'll be comp'ny to me allwinter. And you you took thought onme! a young, fly-away, handsome gal,

and old G'lushe Pennypacker! Wal, 'twon't be forgot here, nor yet yender!"

He gave an upward jerk of his head,and then passed his rag of ahandkerchief over his face again, andsaid he must be going. But he did notgo till he had had a glass of milk, andhalf-a-dozen of Mrs. Brett's doughnuts,to strengthen him for his homewardwalk.

All this came back to Hildegarde, as shestood on the piazza; and as she recalledthe softened, friendly look in the oldman's eyes as he bade her good-by, shesaid again to herself, "This is thehappiest day of my life!" The next day

would not be so happy, for Rose andBubble were going, one to her home atHartley's Glen, the other to his schoolin New York; and in a fortnight shemust herself be turning her facehomeward.

How short the summer had been! hadthere ever been such a flying seasonand yet she had done very little; she hadonly been happy, and enjoyed herself.Miss Wealthy, perhaps, could have toldanother story, of kind deeds andwords; of hours spent in reading aloud,in winding wools, in arranging flowers,in the thousand little helpfulnesses bywhich a girl can make herself belovedand necessary in a household. To the

gentle, dreamy, delicate Rose,Hildegarde had really been the summer.Without this strong arm always roundher, this strong sunny nature, helping,cheering, amusing, how could she havecome out of the life-long habits ofinvalidism, and learned to face theworld standing on both feet She couldnot have done it, Rose felt; and withthis feeling, she probably would nothave done it.

But, as I said, Hildegarde knew nothingof this. She had been happy, that wasall. And though she was going to herown beloved home, and to the parentswho were the greater part of the worldto her, still she would be sorry to leave

this happiness even for a completerone.

But hark! was that the sound of wheelsYes; they were coming.

"Cousin Wealthy!" cried the girl,running to the door. "Rose! Bubble!Martha! Mrs. Brett! Benny! Come out,all of you! The stage is here!"

Out they came, all running, all out ofbreath, save Miss Wealthy, who knewthe exact number of steps that wouldbring her to the exact middle of thepiazza, and took these steps with herusual gentle precision of movement.She had no sooner taken up the

position which she felt to be the properone for her, than round the cornercame the Bywood stage, a long,lumbering, ramshackle vehicle, in whichsat Mrs. Murray, a kind-looking nurse,and the twelve convalescent childrenwho were to have the first delights ofthe Country Home.

At sight of them Bubble began to wavehis hat violently. "Hooray!" he shouted."Three cheers for the young uns!"

"Hooray!" echoed Benny, flapping hishands about, as he had no hat to wave.

The children set up a feeble shout inreply, and waved heads, arms, and legs

indiscriminately. Then ensued a sceneof joyous confusion. The little oneswere lifted out, kissed, and welcomed;their bundles followed; and for a fewminutes the quiet place was filled with avery Babel of voices.

High above them all rose the clariontones of Benny, explaining to a formerfellow-patient his present position inlife. "I don't lives here!" he said; "I livesa little way off. I's ve boy of ve housewhere I lives, and I takes care of awhole lot of womenfolks, and JimMaria helps me, and vere's anover boywho does fings for me. It's bully, andI'm goin' to stay vere all my life long."

Mrs. Murray looked quickly at MissWealthy. "Does he know of hismother's death " she asked in a lowtone.

"No!" replied Miss Wealthy. "He hasalmost forgotten her, poor little lad! Ifear she was not very kind to him. AndI have decided to keep him, Mrs.Murray, and to give him a happychildhood, and then send him to agood school. He is a most lovablechild, and it will be a privilege to havehim, especially as my dear youngrelative is to leave me soon."

Both looked instinctively towardHildegarde, who was standing, flushed

and radiant, the centre of a group ofchildren, who clustered round her,pulling at her hands and clinging to hergown.

"What's the name of this place " onelittle fellow was asking her. "I like thisplace! What is its name "

"It is called Joyous Gard!" repliedHildegarde. "That was the name of abeautiful castle, long and long ago,which belonged to a very brave knight;and we think it will be a good name foryour Country Home, because we meanto make it full of joy and happiness,and yet to guard you well in it. SoJoyous Gard it is to be. Say it now, all

of you, 'Joyous Gard!'"

And "Joyous Gard!" shouted thechildren, their voices echoing merrilyamong the trees, and spreading away, tillRose, the romantic, wondered if somefaint tone of it might not reach a paleshade called Lancelot du Lake, andbring him comfort where he sorrowedfor his sins.

So in Joyous Gard let us leave ourHildegarde, in each hand a child,around her many loving hearts, in herown heart great joy and light and love.Let us leave her, and wish that all girlsmight know the cheer and happinessthat was hers, not for that day only, but

through all her days.

THE END.

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* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

In the Hildegarde-Margaret Seriesadvertisement, the price per volumehad been blotted out by a reader and$2.00 written in. A search foradvertisements of this set costing$19.75 shows them individually at

$1.75 and the text has been changed toreflect that.

THE END