a take these dishes, or she will be late with her work, and that
always distresses her extremely."

They went into the parlor, and Hildegarde, as she patted and "plumped"
the cushions of the old lady's chair, reminded her that she had promised
them some work for the morning, but had not told them what it was.

"True!" said Miss Wealthy. "You are right, dear. This is my Flower-day.
I send flowers once a week to the sick children in the hospital at
Fairtown, and I thought you might like to pick them and make up the
nosegays."

"Oh, how delightful that will be!" cried Hildegarde. "And is that what
you call work, Cousin Wealthy? I call it play, and the best kind. We
must go at once, so as to have them all picked before the sun is hot.
Come, Rosebud!"

The girls put on their broad-brimmed hats and went out into the garden,
which was still cool and dewy. Jeremiah was there, of course, with his
wheelbarrow; and as they stood looking about them, Martha appeared with
a tray in one hand and a large shallow tin box in the other. Waving the
tray as a signal to the girls to follow, she led the way to a shady
corner, where, under a drooping laburnum-tree, was a table and a rustic
seat. She set the tray and box on the table, and then, diving into her
capacious pocket, produced a ball of string, two pairs of
flower-scissors, and a roll of tissue paper.

"There!" she said, in a tone of satisfaction, "I think that's all.
Pretty work you'll find it, Miss Hilda, and it's right glad I am to have
you do it; for it is too much for Miss Bond, stooping over the beds, so
it is. But do it she will; and I almost think she hardly liked to give
it up, even to you."

"Indeed, I don't wonder!" said Hildegarde. "There cannot be anything
else so pleasant to do. And thank you, Martha, for making everything so
comfortable for us. You are a dear, as I may have said before."

Martha chuckled and withdrew, after telling the girls that the flowers
must be ready in an hour.

"Now, Rose," said Hildegarde, "you will sit there and arrange the pretty
dears as I bring them to you. The question is now, where to begin. I
never, in all my life, saw so many flowers!"

"Begin with those that will not crush easily," said Rose, "and I will
lay them at the bottom. Some of those splendid sweet-williams over
there, and mignonette, and calendula, and sweet alyssum, and--"

"Oh, certainly!" cried Hildegarde. "All at once, of course, picking with
all my hundred hand