in Martha Washington's garden more than a century ago.

Neither seemed to feel like talking. The young man had seen the gardener
as they entered the enclosure, and had persuaded him to allow them to go
through the lovely spot alone.

Bab's vivid imagination brought to life the old colonial ladies who had
once wandered in this famous garden. She saw their white wigs, their
powder and patches and full skirts. So Bab forgot all about her
companion.

Suddenly she heard Peter give a slight exclamation. They had both come to
the end of the garden walk. There before them stood a great rose tree.
Blooming in the unusually warm sunshine were two rose-buds, gently tipped
with frost.

"Ah, Miss Thurston, how glad I am we found the garden first!" Peter
cried. "This is the famous Mary Washington rose, which Washington
planted here in his garden, and named in honor of his mother. Wait here
until I find the gardener. I am going to make him let us have these two
tiny rose-buds."

"How nice Peter Dillon really is," Bab thought. "Ruth was mistaken in
warning me against him. Of course, he does not show on the surface what
he actually feels. But perhaps I shall find out he is a finer fellow than
we think he is. Mr. Hamlin says Harriet is wrong in believing Peter is
never in earnest about anything."

"It's all right, Miss Thurston," called Peter, returning in a few minutes
with his eyes shining. "The gardener says we may have the roses." The
young fellow dropped down on his knees before the rose bush without a bit
of affectation or self-consciousness. He skilfully cut the two half faded
rose-buds from the stalk and handed one to Barbara.

"Keep this, Miss Thurston," he said earnestly. "And if ever you should
wish me to do you a favor, just send the flower to me and I shall perform
whatever task you set me to do to the best of my skill." Peter looked at
his own rose. "May I keep my rose-bud for the same purpose?" he begged
quietly. "Perhaps I shall send my flower to you some day and ask you to
do me a service. Will you do it for me?"

"Yes, Mr. Dillon, I will do you any favor that I can," Bab returned
steadily. "But I don't make rash promises in the dark. And I have very
little opportunity to do people favors. You make me think of the
newspaper girl, Marjorie Moore. She tried to force me into a promise
without letting me know what she wanted, the first day I saw her. Does
everyone try to get some one to do something for him in Wash