said Mary, "but I often thought the wealth of flowers
there was too much for earth. You see, it is very near the equator,
very hot and so unbearably oppressive. That is what gave us all the
deadly fever." She was trimming off a few withered leaves from a plant
in its hanging basket, and standing on the high rustic stool, her face
above the blossoms, brought sighs of admiration even to Grace, who
ordinarily disclaimed so small a thing as mere vanity.

"But, Mary, how did you become so well educated away out there?" asked
Cleo.

"Oh, I had an English nurse, and a governess always," replied Mary,
surprise at the question toning her answer.

"And your daddy?" Grace had asked the question before she had a chance
to "feel her way to it."

"Daddy!" answered Mary, a tear falling into the heart of an orchid.
"Daddy--was lost!"

"In the sea?" Cleo felt impelled to ask further.

"Yes, he had the fever, and some sailors took him out on the water to
refresh him--and he was lost, overboard!"

"Oh, how dreadfully sad!" murmured Grace, putting her arm around Mary,
who sat now on a bench in a bower of ferns. "But, Mary-love, see all
the sisters you have now, and you know how dearly we all do love you!"

"Yes," Mary finally answered, "but I feel little bit guilty, that is
not exactly guilty, but deceitful, as I cannot tell you who I am
really. There! I should cry 'Secret' to myself, for I am getting on
dangerous ground. Come along! I am going to keep my scout pledge in
mind, and smile away my tears. See!" and she brushed two living pearls
from her cheeks. "There now, all our work is done, and we are ready
for Grandie."

"Oh!" exclaimed Madaline, in evident delight. "See the perfectly
gorgeous butterfly! However did it get in here?"

"Oh, we coax them in once in a while, but they soon fly out to freedom
again. Yes, that is a beauty. He has taken some of the orchid
colors," said Mary.

The brilliant, noiseless, flying creature soared up and sailed down
from flower to flower, resting finally on a humble little clover bloom.

"See, he likes the field blossoms best," remarked Cleo. "I suppose if
we opened a window he would turn his back on all this vain-glory, and
float away to a roadside buttercup."

"Come along, pretty maidens, we must away!" quoted Mary. "Grace,
please be sure the latch is tightly fastened on the fern window. Did I
put enough water in their fountain?"

"Oh, plenty," replied Grace. "See