Hazel laughed. "Well, anyway, she said Flossie'd eaten as much as she usually did in two whole days. Isn't it beautiful that she's going to get well?"

"I wouldn't talk to her too much about it," returned Mr. Badger. "It would be cruel to disappoint her."

This sort of response was new to Hazel. She gazed at her uncle a minute.

"That's error," she said at last. "G.o.d doesn't disappoint people. They'll get some grown-up Scientist, but until they do, I'll declare the truth for Flossie every day. She'll get well. You'll see.

"I hope so," returned Mr. Badger quietly.

Old Hannah gave her employer a wink over the child's head. "You might ask them to come here by your garden and have lunch some day, Hazel. I'll fix things up real nice for you, even if we haven't got any baby dishes."

"I'd love to," returned Hazel, "and I expect they'd love to come. To-morrow I'm going to take the lesson over and read it with them, and I'm going to read them the 'Quest Flower,' too. It's a story that aunt Hazel will just love. I think she has one in her yard."

"Well, Mr. Richard," said Hannah, after their little visitor had gone to bed, "I see the end of one family feud."

Mr. Badger smiled. "When Miss Fletcher consents to take lunch in my yard, I shall see it, too," he replied.

The next day was pleasant, also, and when Hazel appeared outside her aunt's fence, Flossie was sitting under the tree and waved a hand to her. The white face looked pleased and almost eager, and Miss Fletcher called:--

"Come along, Hazel. I guess Flossie got just tired enough yesterday. She slept last night the best she has since she came."

"Yes," added the little invalid, smiling as her new friend drew near, "the night seemed about five minutes long."

"That's the way it does to me," returned Hazel. She had her doll and some books in her arms, and Miss Fletcher took the latter from her.

"H'm, h'm," she murmured, as she looked over the t.i.tles. "You have something about Christian Science here."

"Yes, I thought I'd read to-day's lesson to Flossie before I treated her, and you'd let us take your Bible."

"I certainly will. I can tell you, Hazel, Flossie and I were surprised at the number of good verses and promises I read to her last evening. Anybody ought to sleep well after them."

Hazel looked glad, and Miss Fletcher let her run into the house to bring the Bible, for it was on the hall table in plain sight.

While she was gone the hostess smoothed Flossie's hair. "I can tell you, my dear child, that reading all those verses to you last night made me feel that we don't any of us live up to our lights very well. 'Tisn't always a question of sick bodies, Flossie."

Hazel came bounding back to the elm-tree, and sitting down near the wheeled chair, opened the Bible and two of the books she had brought, and proceeded to read the lesson. Had she been a few years older, she would not have attempted this without a word of explanation to two people to whom many of the terms of her religion were strange, but no doubts a.s.sailed her. The little white girl in the wheeled chair was going to get out of it and run around and be happy--that was all Hazel knew, and she proceeded in the only way she knew of to bring it about.

Miss Fletcher's thin lips parted as she listened to the sentences that the child read. She understood scarcely more than Flossie of what they were hearing, excepting the Bible verses, and these did not seem to bear on the case. It was Hazel's perfectly unhesitating certainty of manner and voice which most impressed her, and when the child had finished she continued to stare at her unconsciously.

"Now," said Hazel, returning her look, "I guess I'd better treat her before we begin to play."

Her hostess started. "Oh!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "then I suppose you'd rather be alone."

"Yes, it's easier," returned the little girl.

Miss Fletcher, feeling rather embarra.s.sed, gathered up her sewing and moved off to the house.

"If I ever in all my born days!" she thought again. "What would Flossie's mother say! Well, that dear little girl's prayers can't do any harm, and if she isn't a smart young one I never saw one. She's Fletcher clear through.

I'd like to know what Richard Badger thinks of her. If she'd give _him_ a few absent treatments it might do him some good."

Miss Fletcher's lips took their old grim line as she added this reflection, but she was not altogether comfortable. Her nephew's action in withholding from Hazel the fact that it was her aunt whom she was visiting daily could scarcely have other than a kindly motive; and that long list of Bible references which she had read to Flossie last evening had stirred her strangely. There was one, "He that loveth not, knoweth not G.o.d, for G.o.d is love," which had followed her to bed and occupied her thoughts for some time.

Now she went actively to work preparing the luncheon which she intended serving to the children later.

"And I'd better fix enough for two laboring men," she thought, smiling.

Later, when she went back under the tree, her little guest skipped up to her. "Oh, aunt Hazel," she said, and the address softened the hostess's eyes, "won't you and Flossie come to-morrow afternoon if it's pleasant, and have lunch beside my garden?"

Miss Fletcher's face changed. This was a contingency that had not occurred to her.

"Oh, do say yes," persisted the child. "I want you to see my flowers, and Flossie says she'd love to. I'll come up and wheel her down there."

"Flossie can go some day, yes," replied aunt Hazel reluctantly; "but I don't visit much. I'm set in my ways."

"Hannah, uncle d.i.c.k's housekeeper, suggested it herself," pursued Hazel, thinking that perhaps her own invitation was not sufficient, "and I know uncle d.i.c.k would be glad. You said," with sudden remembrance, "that you used to know him."

Miss Fletcher's lips were their grimmest. "I've spanked him many a time,"

she replied deliberately.

"Spanked him!" repeated the child, staring in still amazement.

The grim lips crept into a grimmer smile. "Not very hard; not hard _enough_, I've thought a good many times since."

Hazel recovered her breath. "You knew him when he was little?"

"I certainly did. No, child, don't ask me to go out of my tracks. You come here all you will, and if you'll be very careful you can wheel Flossie up to your garden some day. Come, now, are you going to read us that story? I see you brought it."

"Yes, I brought it," replied Hazel, in a rather subdued voice. She saw that there was some trouble between this kind, new friend and her dear uncle d.i.c.k, and the discovery astonished her. How could grown-up people not forgive one another?

Miss Fletcher seated herself again with her sewing, and Hazel took the little white book and sat down close by the wheeled chair where Flossie was holding both the dolls.

"Do you like stories?" she asked.

"Yes, when they're not interesting," returned Flossie; "but when mother brings a book and says it's very interesting, I know I shan't like it."

Hazel laughed. "Well, hear this," she said, and began to read:--

Once there was a very rich man whose garden was his chief pride and joy. In all the country around, people knew about this wonderful garden, and many came from miles away to look at the rare trees and shrubs, and the beautiful vistas through which one could gain glimpses of blue water where idle swans floated and added their snowy beauty to the scene. But loveliest of all were the rare flowers, blossoming profusely and rejoicing every beholder.

It was the ambition of the man's life to have the most beautiful garden in the world; and so many strangers as well as friends told him that it was so that he came to believe it and to be certain that no beauty could be added to his enchanting grounds.

One evening, as he was strolling about the avenues, he strayed near the wall and suddenly became aware of a fragrance so sweet and strange that he started and looked about him to find its source. Becoming more and more interested each moment, as he could find only such blossoms as were familiar to him, he at last perceived that the wonderful perfume floated in from the public way which ran just without the wall.

Instantly calling a servant he dispatched him to discover what might be the explanation of this delightful mystery.

The servant sped and found a youth bearing a jar containing a plant crowned with a wondrous pure white flower which sent forth this sweetness.