s," cried Edith, in a
rapture. They were as sweet as they could be, little English violets,
white as snow, and perfuming the air. The flowers had come to Virginia
early in the new spring, and already there were early roses, slender
lilies of the valley, with tiny cups to catch the dewdrops, and the
fragrant yellow jasmine flinging its golden bells over every roadside
fence and tree. Old Uncle Moses had taken the children to the woods, and
there they had seen the jasmine in its glory, and the white stars of the
dogwood shining through the green branches far and near.

"'Pears like," said Uncle Moses, after one of these expeditions, "'pears
like God must love posies, de way he scatter dem roun' dis yer land."

For all that Miss Josephine had been left at home, the little girls had
not been obliged to live without a doll. Kind Aunt Maria had given them
each one soon after their arrival. Out in the garden, then, with the
dollies, Luce full of enthusiasm, and barking and rolling like an
animated puff-ball, or else sitting up as straight as a judge, they were
playing queen. Mabel had just fastened the wreath on Edith's head, when
Johnnie very gravely observed,

"I think we are heartless wretches."

"Johnnie, where _do_ you learn those big words?"

"Well, we're having such nice times, and never thinking of poor mamma.
We ought to be miserable, if we had any feeling. I heard Aunt Chloe the
other day say, 'Pore things, dey a'n't ole 'nuff to know what dey'd
lose, if dey done lose dere mudder.'"

[Illustration]

Mabel's ready tears began to flow.

"O dear! O dear!" she sobbed, "mamma is going to die! What shall we do?"

"Hush, Mabel!" said Edith. "If we ought not to play, why we'll stop; but
there isn't any use in crying so. Do please hush this instant."

A quick step came down the walk. The children, looking up, saw the young
lady who lived in the next house. She had a sunbonnet on her head, and a
light shawl was thrown around her, and in her hand was a pretty little
bark canoe, in which was her knitting-work.

"O Miss Rose, beautiful Miss Rose!" exclaimed Edith, "you're the very
person we wanted to see."

"Mith Rothe, when thith canoe geth too old for you, you'll give it to
me, won't you?" said Mabel, putting her hands lovingly up towards the
fanciful basket.

"Mabel," Johnny said in a tone of reproof, "how often has mamma told you
never to ask for things in that way?"

"Never mind your little sister, Johnnie,"