distant view of
the river, and, above all, the flowers of the most brilliant colours
that were always rushing into bloom or tumbling off to deck the ground
made it a brilliant spot in the station, and as he neared it his face
smoothed, his sun-browned forehead lost its wrinkles, and, just as he
expected, he caught sight of the two reasons for the bungalow looking so
bright and gay.

One reason was the Doctor's wife busy in the garden with a basket and a
pair of scissors, snipping off bunch and cluster ready for filling vase
and basin in the shaded rooms; the other was standing upon a chair
helping climber to twine and tendril to catch hold of trellis and wire
which made the front of the cottage-like structure one blaze of colour.

"Morning, ladies," cried the lad.

"Morning, Archie," cried the Doctor's wife, a pleasant, middle-aged,
pink, sunshiny-looking lady, whose smooth skin seemed to possess the
power of reflecting all sun-rays that played upon it so that they never
fixed there a spot of tan. "Come to help garden?"

"Yes; all right. What shall I do?" cried the lad.

"Make Minnie jump down off that chair, and tuck up the wild tendrils of
that climber."

"No, no, auntie; I don't want him," cried the owner of the busy hands,
as she reached up higher to hook on one tendril, and failed; for the
long strand laden with blossom missed the wire that ought to have held
it, fell backwards, and, as if directed by invisible fairy hands, formed
itself into a wreath over her hair, startling her so that she would have
lost her footing upon the chair had she not made a quick leap to the
floor of the veranda, bringing down another trailing strand.

"Ha, ha! Serve you right, Miss Independence!" cried Archie, running to
her help.

"No, no, don't. I can do it myself," cried the girl. "Mind; that
flower's so tender, and I know you will break it."

"Suppose I do," said Archie. "No, you don't; I'll take it off and twine
it up myself, even if my fingers are so clumsy. I say, Minnie, it's
lucky for you that it isn't that climbing rose, or there would be some
scratches."

He sprang upon the chair, busied himself for a few minutes, and then
leaped down again, to stand with brow wrinkled, gazing up at his work.

"There," he said; "won't that do?"

"Yes," said the girl, with a slight pout of two rather pretty lips. "It
will do; but it isn't high enough."

"Oh, come, it's higher than you could have reached.--Don't say the