is first visits was to William
Drummond, with whom he had corresponded a good deal. Drummond was
sitting under his great sycamore-tree, waiting for him, and at last he
saw a great ponderous figure coming down the avenue, flourishing a huge
walking-stick. Of course he knew who it was; so he went forward to meet
him, and called out, 'Welcome, welcome, royal Ben!' 'Thank ye, thank ye,
Hawthornden!' answered Jonson; and then they both laughed and were
friends at once."

"Hildegarde, where do you find all these wonderful things?" cried Rose,
in amazement. "That is delightful, enchanting. And for you to call
yourself ignorant! Oh!"

"There is a life of Drummond at home," said Hildegarde, simply. "Of
course one reads lovely things,--there is no merit in that; and the
teasel still flaunts. But I _do_ feel better. That is just my baseness,
to be glad when you don't know things, you dearest! But do just look at
these sweet-peas! I have picked all these,--pecks! bushels!--and there
are as many as ever. Don't you think we have enough flowers, Rosy?"

"I do indeed!" answered Rose. "Enough for a hundred children at least.
Besides, it must be time for them to go. The lovely things! Think of all
the pleasure they will give! A sick child, and a bunch of flowers like
these!" She took up a posy of velvet pansies and sweet-peas, set round
with mignonette, and put it lovingly to her lips. "I remember--" She
paused, and sighed, and then smiled.

"Yes, dear!" said Hildegarde, interrogatively. "The house where you were
born?"

[Illustration: "'DON'T YOU THINK WE HAVE ENOUGH FLOWERS, ROSY?'"]

"One day I was in dreadful pain," said Rose,--"pain that seemed as if it
would never end,--and a little child from a neighbor's house brought a
bunch of Ragged Robin, and laid it on my pillow, and said, 'Poor
Pinky! make she better!' I think I have never loved any other flower
quite so much as Ragged Robin, since then. It is the only one I miss
here. Do you want to hear the little rhyme I made about it, when I was
old enough?"

Hildegarde answered by sitting down on the arm of the rustic seat, and
throwing her arm round her friend's shoulder in her favorite fashion.
"Such a pleasant Rosebud!" she murmured. "Tell now!"

And Rose told about--

RAGGED ROBIN.

O Robin, ragged Robin,
That stands beside the door,
The sweetheart of the country child,
The flower of the poor,

I love to see your cheer