an up to Maggie.

"I hope you'll like me, Maggie, for I know I'll like you."

Maggie's face beamed. "Of cou'se, honey, I jes' kan't help likin' yo'.
Yo'se de sweetest little missy I knows," and then she added: "Massa,
I'se 'sidered yore proposition, an' me an' Titus 'cided to stay."

"All right, Maggie. You can show Mrs. Davenport and the children
around the house."

Marian was willing to go with her mother, but Beth hung back.

"I don't care for the house. I want to see the front yard and river.
May I go, papa?"

"If you'll come back in half an hour, you may go."

"All right, papa," and Beth was off like a flash around the corner of
the house. She was impatient to see everything in that half hour. She
felt that she needed a thousand eyes. The trees bewildered her. There
were so many varieties she had never seen before--magnolias with their
wonderful glossy foliage; bamboos with their tropical stalks covered
with luxuriant green; pomegranates; live-oaks and water-oaks; the wild
olive with its feathery white blossoms, and many others.

The moss on the oaks swayed back and forth, seeming to murmur, "Beth,
these trees are the best of playfellows. Climb up here with us. We'll
have great fun," but she would not heed them. There was too much to
see.

All of a sudden, she stopped perfectly still. She thought there must
be a fairy up in one of the trees with the most wonderful voice she had
ever heard. Such singing, she thought, was too sweet to be human.

She looked up and beheld a bird of medium size, and of plain plumage.
It cocked its little head to one side, and eyed the child as if it knew
no fear. It sang on undisturbed.

"Beth," this is what the warbler said to her, "come up into this
beautiful tree with us. Stay with us." The enticement of the bird,
added to the fascination trees had for her, was almost too much for so
little a girl to resist. However, she put her fingers into her ears,
and ran on. But, she did not escape temptation thus. Countless beds
of roses, of geraniums, and of many other flowers tempted her to
linger, and gather the fragrant blossoms, but, still she did not
succumb, for there was greater beauty ahead. She beheld a lovely
avenue formed of orange trees and red and white oleanders trimmed to a
perfect archway. The winter had been a mild one. Not only did
luscious ripe oranges cling to the trees, but green fruit was forming,
and there was, also, a wealth of fragrant