I'll be able to give some of the leaves to the fowls,
won't I?"

"Yes, if you don't give them too many."

"I must go now and see if my daisy is growing, and the marigold.
I'll be back again in a minute," and away she trotted.

The others were sauntering slowly back from the fowl-house, and pausing to
look at Charlie's strawberry plants on their way, when suddenly the
silence was broken by a succession of squeals and shrieks and frantic
calls to each one by name.

"Oh-h-h! oh-h! oh!! Bella! Daddy! Tom! Do come here. Charlie! oh,
look, do look! there's a lovely rose bush growed up in my garden through
the night, and it's got leaves on it! Oh, how did it come? Daddy, do
come and see it. You never saw anything so wonderful."

They all ran, of course. Bella and the boys nearly as excited as Margery,
and full of curiosity, their father full of pleasure with the success of
his surprise.

"Daddy, do come and look. It is a real one, isn't it?" Clutching him by
the hand to hurry him. "It isn't a fairy rose, is it?" anxiously.

"It's a real one right enough, in my opinion," said her father, looking
very grave, and stooping down to inspect the little bush. "It's a real
one right enough," he assured her solemnly, as he straightened himself
again. "Looks healthy too."

"Do you think the fairies put it there for me?" she asked, breathlessly,
watching her father closely and trying to read his face. "Or do you think
God sended it to me 'cause I've been a good girl?"

"Have you been a good girl?" doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I think so," hesitatingly; "haven't I, Bella?" turning her anxious
little face from one to the other.

"Yes," said Bella loyally, "you've been very good."

"That's it, then, I expect it has been sent to your garden because you've
been good."

"P'raps God telled the fairies, and they put it there," and her little
face grew all bright again at this wonderful explanation.

The beauty and wonder and mystery of it all took up so much of their time
and attention that there was no more work done that morning, for when Aunt
Emma's call to breakfast came sounding along the path they were still
gathered about Margery's little garden, gazing and marvelling at the
mysterious rose.

"I must have one look at my herbs before I go in," said Bella to herself
as the call to breakfast reached her; "they are not as lovely as Margery's
rose, but my herb-bed was the beginning, and--and oh I do hope i