“Now go ’long!”------

Daisy was startled, and turned to the creature who had spoken to see if she had heard and understood aright.  No doubt of it.  Molly was not looking at her, but her face was ungenial; and as Daisy hesitated she made a little gesture of dismissal with her hands.  Daisy moved a step or two off, afraid of another shower of gravel upon her feet.

“I will come to-morrow and see how it looks”—­she said gently.

Molly did not reply yes or no, but she repeated her gesture of dismissal, and Daisy thought it best and wisest to obey.  She bid her a sweet “good bye,” to which she got no answer, and mounted into her chaise again.  There was a little disappointment in her heart; yet when she had time to think it all over she was encouraged too.  The rose-tree was fairly planted; that would keep on speaking to Molly without the fear of a rebuff; and somehow Daisy’s heart was warm towards the gruff old creature.  How forlorn she had looked, sitting in the dirt, with her grum face!

“But perhaps she will wear a white robe in heaven!”—­thought Daisy.

Seeing that the rose-tree had evidently won favour, Daisy judged she could not do better than attack Molly again on her weak side, which seemed to be the love of the beautiful!—­in one line at least.  But Daisy was not an impatient child; and she thought it good to see first what sort of treatment the rose-bush got, and not to press Molly too hard.  So the next day she carried nothing with her; only went to pay a visit to the garden.  Nothing was to be seen but the garden; Molly did not shew herself; and Daisy went in and looked at the rose.  Much to her satisfaction, she saw that Molly had quite discarded the great bunch of four-o’clocks which had given the little rose tree no room on one side; they were actually pulled up and gone; and the rose looked out in fair space and sunshine where its coarse-growing neighbour had threatened to be very much in its way.  An excellent sign.  Molly clearly approved of the rose.  Daisy saw with great pleasure that another bud was getting ready to open and already shewing red between the leaves of its green calyx; and she went home happy.

Next morning she went among the flower beds, and took a very careful survey of all the beauties there to see what best she might take for her next attack upon Molly.  The beauties in flower were so very many and so very various and so delicious all to Daisy’s eye, that she was a good deal puzzled.  Red and purple and blue and white and yellow, the beds were gay and glorious.  But Daisy reflected that anything which wanted skill in its culture or shelter from severities of season would disappoint Molly, because it would not get from her what would be necessary to its thriving.  Some of the flowers in bloom, too, would not bear transplanting.  Daisy did not know what to do.  She took Logan into her confidence, so far as she could without mentioning names or circumstances.