ing better than
this for himself, as well as his family. So he employed every spare
hour in studying medicine, and it was the night that he was to receive
his diploma that my little story begins.

The exercises of the evening were concluded. Edward Roberts came down
the aisle to where his wife and Annie were seated, bearing his
flowers--an elegant basket, tastefully arranged, and a beautiful
bouquet. But it needed only a quick glance for Annie to see it was not
_her_ bouquet. Although the flowers were fragrant and rare, they were
not so carefully selected or well chosen. Hers expressed not alone her
affection and appreciation, but _his_ energy, perseverance and success.

"Why, where is my bouquet? I do not see it," asked Annie, a look of
disappointment on her usually bright face.

"Yours? I do not know. Did you send me one?" returned her
brother-in-law.

"Indeed I did. And such a beauty, too! It is too bad! I suppose it
is the result of the stupidity of the young man in whose hands I placed
it. I told him plain enough it was for you, and your name, with mine,
was on the card," answered Annie, really very much provoked.

"Well, do not fret, little sister; I am just as much obliged; and
perchance some poor fellow not so fortunate as I may have received it,"
answered Edward Roberts.

"Don't, for pity's sake, let mother know of the mistake, or whatever it
is, that has robbed you of your bouquet. She will fret dreadfully
about it," said Annie.

All that night, until she was lost in sleep, did she constantly repeat:

"I wonder who has got it?"

She had failed to observe on the list of graduates the name of _Edgar
Roberts_, from Ohio, or she might have had an idea into whose hands her
bouquet had fallen. Her brother Edward, immediately on hearing Annie's
exclamation, thought how the mistake had occurred, and was really glad
that it was as it was; for the young man whose name was so nearly like
his own was a stranger in the city, and Edward had noticed his
receiving _one_ bouquet only, which of course was the missing one, and
Annie's.

Edgar Roberts sat in his room that night, after his return from the
distribution of diplomas, holding in his hand Annie's bouquet, and on
the table beside him was a floral dictionary. An expression of
gratification was on his pleasant face, and, as again and again his
eyes turned from the flowers to seek their interpreter, his lips were
wreathed with smiles, and he mur