There had been a sharp frost, which even the chrysanthemums had not withstood, so the garden looked bare and dreary. The arbor vitæ hedge alone kept its green, and as Cassy stood looking at the wisps of straw which covered the rose-bushes, she told herself that she really felt less sorry to leave than she had ever thought she could. The prospect of that other garden near to Eleanor and to May Garland, that cottage which overlooked a shining strip of river, and in sight of which were the purple hills, all this made her feel that she was to gain more than she was to lose.
“Although I am going away, I shall always love you very, very much, you dear garden,” she whispered. “I will never forget you, and you must take good care of my mouse and my spiders, and some day I will come back and see you, roses, dear, when you come out of your funny little straw houses. In a few days we shall all be gone and I will be outside your brick wall, you dear garden.”
She walked slowly back to the house, though Jerry was calling: “Hurry, hurry, Cassy.” Then it suddenly occurred to her that maybe her Uncle John had come, and she ran very fast up the garden path towards the house. Sure enough, that was why Jerry had called, for before she had reached the porch steps she was caught up by a pair of strong arms and her own clasped her uncle’s neck.
“I am so glad, so glad to see you, you dear, dearest uncle,” she said.
“And I am glad to see my little lassie again. I was homesick for her many a time, my little Cassy.”
“And you’ll never, never go back there again.”
“Not unless I take you with me. When you’re a young lady, perhaps, we’ll all go over and have a look at things together.”
Cassy gave him a hug and he put her down.
There was much to talk about, so much to do and to see that for the next week they seemed in a whirl. First there was a mysterious package of presents which Uncle John had brought with him, and which was found to contain a piece of soft wool material, a true Scotch plaid, for a new frock for Cassy, and a new doll from London, which Cassy admired very much, but which she played with only on special occasions, for her beloved Flora was not to be cast aside for any newcomer. For Jerry there was a suit of Scotch tweed and a little silver watch, while for Mrs. Law there was a piece of silk for a new gown and some other things, mementoes of her childhood, a bit of heather, a pin in which was set a Scotch pebble, and a lot of photographs of her old home and the surrounding country. These last were a great source of pleasure to the children, especially to Cassy, who sat and dreamed over them, imagining her mother a tiny child with her sturdy little brother by her side playing in that home over the sea.
The very next day after his arrival Uncle John went to look at the place upon which they had all set their hearts.