"You are very gallant!" said Miss Redbud.
"Anan?" said Verty.
"I mean you are very friendly to me, Verty," said Redbud, with a bright look at his frank face.
"Why, what have I done? I hav'nt done anything for you, for ages. Let me see—can't I do something now? Oh yes, there are some flowers, and I can make a nice wreath!"
And Verty ran and gathered an armful of primroses, marigolds, and golden rods; some late roses, too, and so returned to Redbud.
"Now come to the arbor here—it's just like the Apple Orchard one—come, and I'll make you a crown."
"Oh! I don't deserve it," laughed the young girl.
Verty smiled.
"Yes, you do," he said, "for you are my queen."
And he went and sat down upon the trellised bench, and began weaving a wreath of the delicate yellow autumn primroses and other flowers.