Bea came up stairs in a little while, with a lovely color in her cheeks, and looking very bewitching indeed, with her soft bright eyes, a posy in her belt, and a merry smile on her lips.
"I met Dr. Barnett" she said, taking off her hat, and smoothing out the ribbons with a little thoughtful air; "he was just going to see that poor widow's little girl, who broke her back last week, and he stopped while I gathered some flowers for him to take to her. He is going to cure her if he can, and not charge anything. Isn't it good and kind in him, mama?"
"Yes, dear, very. He did not tell you so, did he?"
"Oh no; he's too modest. Mrs. Dane told me. She went to see the little girl, and took some things, for they are very poor, you know; and the mother told her, and just cried when she told how good and kind he was, and how he talked, and told Katie stories, when she was afraid to have her back fixed."
"He is a very estimable young man, and a true Christian, I think," said Mrs. Dering, watching Bea's animated face as she talked, and noticing that there was no touch of embarrassment or any trace of color, as she rehearsed her friend's praise.
"When I gave him the flowers," added Bea, taking the posy from her belt, and sniffing at the fragrant leaves, "he gave me these, and said we would exchange. He has a little window-garden in his office. I think that is so nice,—and these grew in it; they need some water now, poor little things. Hand me that vase, Olive! There!"
Mrs. Dering went on with her sewing, and her heart, ever young, went back to the blissful days of her own life, like these in which Bea now lived, and she thought, with a smile:
"Bless the dear innocent little heart. She doesn't suspect yet how happy she is, nor what precious meaning the little exchange of posies will soon take unto themselves."
Olive was thinking of Bea's happy face and blithe laugh, and after her sister had gone singing from the room, she came over to her mother's side, and sat down on a stool there.
"Mama, are you glad?"