"Oh, yes, when the children are well again."
The child was silent for a moment, then she smiled, and gave Barbara the bunch of leaves.
"There ain't any flowers now," she said, "so I got these for you."
"Thank you, Bessie, you were very kind to think of me. Aren't they pretty?"
"Yes, um, I picked 'em all by myself in the woods. What makes the leaves fall off?"
"Because winter is coming."
"Miss Wallace," said the child after a pause, "I hope you ain't goin' to be sick and die."
Barbara took the little one in her arms, and kissed her dirty little cheek.
"No, Bessie, I hope not."