ick; he sent for pa and ma, and I
went with them. It is such a long way off, I thought we never would get
there. And Oh, Aunt Ruth, I have not told you yet"--and the chubby face
sobered.

"What is it, child?" picking up bits of litterings from the floor.
Somehow she always did so when Bessie was around, the hands
involuntarily moved in little touches of order and neatness. The room
was good enough for her: for the child it seemed dismal and must be
brightened a little. But Aunt Ruth was unconscious that she was being
called to a better life, or that a love for light and beauty was
awakening in her weary heart.

"Well, I will tell you; we are going to move away. I declare, I think
it's too bad to leave all the girls just as I began to like them, and
you, too, Aunt Ruth. I don't want to go one bit;" tears rolling down her
face.

"Going away, my little girl going off?" said Aunt Ruth seriously.

"Yes; and mamma said we couldn't move Chip, it would be such a bother,
so I have given poor birdie away to Allie Smith;" tears flowing afresh.
"I let Amy Wells have my kitten, but I haven't found a place for my poor
little rose. See," said Bessie, going to the table and removing the
wrapper from her parcel, "isn't it a beauty? You will keep it to
remember me by, and take care of it always, won't you, Aunt Ruth?"

The little blossoms were out in full, and seemed to smile a benediction
upon the old woman.

"Yes, yes, child, I will keep your rose; no harm shall come to it." The
little plant seemed to carry her thoughts away, for she began talking
absently to herself, then recalling her musings she said:--"So you are
going away; and you'll forget all about poor Aunt Ruth with so many new
friends. Well, well, it's natural."

[Illustration: "Yes, child, I will keep your rose."]

"No, no, indeed I shall not," said Bessie, giving her a hearty hug, "and
sometime I will come to see you." They talked a long time, but at last,
with a good-by kiss to Aunt Ruth, and to the pet rose, she was gone like
a flitting sunbeam.

Then the shadows seemed to come back to the inmate of the old house; but
as her glance fell upon the little flower, she began clearing a place
for it to stand in the warmest corner, musing to herself the while:--

"Just such roses I used to carry in my hand to the old stone church in
Amsden when no bigger than Bessie. It seems like yesterday, but ah! it
is a long time. Maybe if I could do like that again, it would no