"How long you stayed, aunt Hazel," said the little invalid fretfully as she entered.
"I expect I did," returned Miss Fletcher, and there was a new life in her tone that Flossie noticed.
"Who is that girl?"
"Her name is Hazel Wright, and she is living at the Badgers'. She's as crazy about flowers as I am, so we had a lot to say. She gave me a lecture on religion, too;" an excited little laugh escaped between the speaker's lips. "She's a very unusual child; and she certainly has a look of the Fletchers."
"What? I thought you said her name was Wright."
"It is! My tongue slipped. She's coming to see you to-morrow, Flossie. We must fix up your doll. I'll wash and iron her pink dress this very afternoon; for Hazel has a beauty doll, herself. I think you'll like that little girl."
That evening when uncle Dick and Hazel were at their supper, Mr. Badger questioned her as usual about her day.
"I've had the most fun," she replied. "I've been to see Miss Fletcher, and she took me into her garden, and we smelled of all the flowers, and had the loveliest time!"
Hannah was standing behind the little girl's chair, and her eyes spoke volumes as she nodded significantly at her employer.
"Yes, sir, she told Miss Fletcher where she was visiting, and she gave her a bunch of mignonette and a rose to bring home."