picked
the poor thing up, and carrying it into her garden, placed it in a
nice cool shady corner, underneath some bushes.

"Won't it bite you, or sting?" asked Jessie, her eyes wide with
alarm, but Miss Grace reassured her. "That poor gentle little
frightened thing hurt me!" she cried; "it could not if it wanted to,
and I am sure it does not want to. It will help to take care of my
flowers for me. You are not afraid to stroke it, Jessie, are you?
Just look how fast its poor little heart is beating with fright!
Isn't it cruel that any living creature should be as terrified as
that!"

Jessie was ashamed for Miss Grace to know that she was almost as
terrified of the toad as the toad was of her, so she stroked it,
though very reluctantly, and the coldness of it made her jump so at
first, that she thought she could never, never touch it again; but
she tried not to be foolish, and she stroked its little head, and
after that she did not mind it a bit, though she was glad Miss Grace
did not ask her to carry it.

When they got back to the house they found two glasses of milk and a
plate of biscuits in Miss Grace's room awaiting them, and after they
had taken them, Miss Grace took down a book and read to Jessie, and
Jessie, who already knew her letters and some of the easiest words,
read a little to Miss Grace, and before she thought that half of the
morning was gone, twelve o'clock had struck, and it was time to dress
and run off to meet her grandfather at the four cross-roads.

When Jessie got to her place by the signpost, her grandfather was
just coming along the road towards her. In his hand he held a big
bunch of white roses and beautiful dark-green leaves. "Oh, how
lovely!" gasped Jessie, when she caught sight of them.

"They'm 'Seven Sisters,'" said her grandfather; "they had overgrown
the other things so much that I had to cut them back, and her
ladyship told me to bring them home to you."

"Oh, thank you!" said Jessie delightedly. "What are the seven
sisters called, granp? What is their real name? Of course they must
have names."

Her grandfather did not understand her for the moment. "What are
they called! Why, Rose, of course; but 'Seven Sisters' is what
they're always known by."

"There couldn't be seven all called 'Rose,' could there?" asked
Jessie gravely. "They _must_ have a name each. Let me see, one
could be 'White Rosie,' another 'Pink Rosie,' then there could be
'Red Rosie,' and 'Rosamu