"Will I take him to the stable, Miss Daisy?" inquired the boy, as Daisy got out at the back door.

"No. Just wait a little for me, Lewis."

Up stairs went Daisy; took off her boots and got rid of the soil they had brought home; that was the first thing. Then, in spotless order again, she went back to Lewis and inquired where Logan was at work. Thither she drove the pony chaise.

"Logan," said Daisy coming up to him; she had left Loupe in Lewis\'s care; "what do you use to help you get up weeds?"

"Maybe a hoe, Miss Daisy; or whiles a weeding fork."

"Have you got one here?"

"No, Miss Daisy. Was it a fork you were wanting?"

"Yes, I want one, Logan."

"And will you be wanting it noo?"

"Yes, I want it now, if you please."

"Bill, you go home and get Miss Daisy one o\' them small hand forks—out o\' that new lot—them\'s slenderer."

"And Logan, I want another thing. I want a little rose bush—and if you can, I want it with a rose open or a bud on it."

"A rose bush!" said Logan. "Ye want it to be set some place, nae doute?"

"Yes, I do; but I want to set it out myself, Logan; so it must not be too big a bush, you know, for I couldn\'t manage it."

"Perhaps Miss Daisy had better let me manage it. It\'s dirty work, Miss
Daisy."

"No; I only want the rose bush. I will take care of it, Logan. Have you got one that I can have?"

"Ou, ay, Miss Daisy! there\'s a forest of rose bushes; ye can just please yourself."

"Where is it?"

[Illustration]

Seeing his little mistress was greatly in earnest and must be presently satisfied, Logan cast a wistful glance or two at his own proper work in hand which he was abandoning, and walked away with Daisy. The flower garden and nursery were at some distance; but Daisy trudged along as patiently as he. Her little face was busy-looking now and eager, as well as wise; but no tinge of colour would yet own itself at home in those pale cheeks. Logan glanced at her now and then and was, as she said, "very good." He thought he was about the best business, after all, that could occupy him. He directed his steps to a great garden that yet was not the show garden, but hid away behind the plantations of trees and shrubbery. There were a vast number of plants and flowers here, too; but they were not in show order, and were in fact only the reserve stock, for supplying vacancies or preparing changes or especially for furnishing cut flowers to the house; of which a large quantity must every day be sent in. There was a very nursery of rose trees, smaller and larger. Logan peered about, very particular in his own line as to how every thing should be done; at last he found and chose just the right thing for Daisy. A slender, thrifty young plant, with healthy strong leaves and shoots, and at the top a bud shewing red and a half opened sweet rose. Daisy was quite satisfied.

"Now where is it going, Miss Daisy?" Logan inquired.

"I am going to plant it out myself, Logan; it is going in a place—where
I want it."

"Surely! but does Miss Daisy know how to plant a rose tree?"

"Won\'t you tell me how, Logan?"

"Weel, Miss Daisy, there must be a hole dug for it, in the first place; you must take a trowel and make a hole for it—But your dress will be the waur!" he exclaimed, glancing at his little mistress\'s spotless draperies.

"Never mind; only go on and tell me exactly how to manage, Logan."

"Does Miss Daisy intend to do it this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Aweel, you must take a trowel and make a hole," said Logan, nipping off some useless buds and shoots from the plants in his neighbourhood as he was speaking—"and be sure your hole is deep as it should be; and make the bottom soft with your trowel, or throw in a little earth, well broken, for the roots to rest on"———

"How shall I know when my hole is deep enough?"

"Weel, Miss Daisy, it depends on the haighth of the roots—ye must even try and see till ye get it deep enough; but whatever ye do, keep the crown of the plant above ground."

"And what is the crown of the plant, Logan?"

Logan stooped down and put his fingers to the stem of a rose tree.

"It\'s just called the crown o\' the plant, Miss Daisy, here where the roots goes one way and the stem springs up another. Miss Daisy sees, there\'s a kind o\' shouther there."

"No, I don\'t see," said Daisy.

Logan put in his spade, and with a turn or two brought up the little rose bush he had chosen for her purpose; and holding the ball of earth, in his hand, shewed her the part of the plant he spoke of, just above the surface of the soil.

"It\'s the most tenderest pairt of the vegetable nature," he said; "and it must be kept out of the ground, where it can breathe, like; it won\'t answer to cover it up."

"I will not," said Daisy. "Then?—"

"Then, when ye have gotten the place prepared, ye must set in this ball of earth, as haill as ye can keep it; but if it gets broken off, as it\'s like it will!—then ye must set the roots kindly in on the soft earth, and let them lie just natural; and put in the soft earth over them; and when ye have got a little in press it down a bit; and then more, after the same manner, until it\'s all filled up."

"Why must it be pressed down?"

"Weel, Miss Daisy, it must be dune; the roots is accustomed to have the soil tight round them, and they don\'t like it unless they have it so. It\'s a vara good way, to have a watering pot of water and make a puddle in the bottom of the hole, and set the roots in that and throw in the soil; and then it settles itself all round them, and ye need not to coax it with your fingers. But if ye don\'t puddle the roots, the bush must be well watered and soaked when ye have dune."

"Very well, Logan—thank you. Now please put it in a basket for me, with a trowel, and let me take a watering pot of water too; or Lewis can carry that, can\'t he?"

"He can take whatever ye have a mind," said Logan; "but where is it going?"

"I\'ll take the basket with the rose," said Daisy—"it\'s going a little way—you can set it just here, in my chaise, Logan."

The gardener deposited the basket safely in the chaise, and Daisy got in and shook the reins. Lewis, much wondering and a little disgustful, was accommodated with a watering pot full of water, by the grinning Logan.

"See ye ride steady now, boy," he said. "Ye won\'t want to shew any graces of horsemanship, the day!"

Whatever Lewis might have wanted, the necessity upon him was pretty stringent. A watering pot full of water he found a very uncomfortable bundle to carry on horseback; he was bound to ride at the gentlest of paces, or inflict an involuntary cold bath upon himself every other step. Much marvelling at the arrangement which made a carriage and horses needful to move a rose bush, Lewis followed as gently as he could the progress of his little mistress\'s pony chaise; which was much swifter than he liked it; until his marvelling was increased by its turning out of Melbourne grounds and taking a course up the road again. Towards the same place! On went Daisy, much too fast for the watering pot; till the cripple\'s cottage came in sight a second time. There, just at the foot of the little rise in the road which led up to the cottage gate, Loupe suddenly fell to very slow going. The watering pot went easily enough for several yards; and then Loupe stopped. What was the matter?

Something was the matter, yet Daisy did not summon Lewis. She sat quite still, looking before her up to the cottage, with a thoughtful, puzzled, troubled face. The matter was, that just there and not before, the remembrance of her mother\'s command had flashed on her—that she should have nothing to do with any stranger out of the house unless she had first got leave. Daisy was stopped short. Get leave? She would never get leave to speak again to that poor crabbed, crippled, forlorn creature; and who else would take up the endeavour to be kind to her? Who else would even try to win her to a knowledge of the Bible and Bible joys? and how would that poor ignorant mortal ever get out of the darkness into the light? Daisy did not know how to give her up; yet she could not go on. The sweet rose on the top of her little rose tree mocked her, with kindness undone and good not attempted. Daisy sat still, confounded at this new barrier her mother\'s will had put in her way.

Wheels came rapidly coursing along the road in front of her, and in a moment Dr. Sandford\'s gig had whirled past the cottage and bore down the hill. But recognizing the pony chaise in the road, he too came to a stop as sudden as Daisy\'s had been. The two were close beside each other.

"Where away, Daisy?"

"I do not understand, Dr. Sandford."

"Where are you going? or rather, why are you standing still here?"

"Because I was in doubt what to do."

"Did the doubt take you here, in the middle of the road?"

"Yes, Dr. Sandford."

"What is it, Daisy? To whom are you carrying a rose bush?"

"I am afraid—nobody."

"What is the matter—or the doubt?"

"It is a question of duty, Dr. Sandford."

"Then I will decide it for you. Go on and do what you wish to do. That will be right."

"O no, sir," said Daisy, smiling at her adviser—"that is just what would be wrong. I cannot."

"Cannot what?"

"Do that, sir; do what I wish to do." And Daisy sighed withal.

"What do you wish to do?"

The doctor was quite serious and as usual a little imperative in his questions, and Daisy knew him to be trusted.

"I wanted to take this little rose bush and set it out in the garden up there."

"There?? do you mean the garden of that cottage?" said the doctor pointing with his whip.

"Yes, sir."

"Are you bound thither now?"

"No, sir—I am going home."

"Rose bush and all? Daisy, let Lewis get Loupe home, and you come here and ride with me. Come! I want you."

Truly Daisy wanted nothing else. She left rose bush and watering pot, chaise and pony, to Lewis\'s management, and gladly let the doctor take her up beside him. She liked to drive with him; he had a fine horse and went fast; and there were other reasons.

Now they drove off in fine style; fast, over the good roads; whisked by Melbourne, sped away along south, catching glimpses of the river from time to time, with the hills on the further side hazily blue and indistinct with the September haze of sunbeams. Near hand the green of plantations and woodland was varied with brown grainfields, where grain had been, and with ripening Indian corn and buckwheat; but more especially with here and there a stately roof-tree or gable of some fine new or old country house. The light was mellow, the air was good; in the excitement of her drive Daisy half forgot her perplexity and discomfiture. Till the doctor said, suddenly looking round at her with a smile,

"Now I shou............