She stood still, the warm breeze ruffling the thin locks about her forehead, and watched the little girl trip along the walk.  The child looked back and smiled as she stopped to pick the pink rose, and when she threw a kiss to Miss Fletcher, that lady found herself responding.

She went into the house with a flush remaining in her cheeks.

“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.”

“Yes,” agreed Hazel, “they’re in a vase in the parlor now, and she asked me to come to-morrow to see an afflicted girl that’s living with her.  You know, uncle Dick,” Hazel lifted her eyes to him earnestly, “you know how it says everywhere in the Bible that anybody that’s afflicted goes to God and He heals them; and what do you think!  Miss Fletcher and that little Flossie girl both believe God afflicted her and fixed her back so she can’t walk!”

Mr. Badger smiled as he met the wondering eyes.  “That isn’t Christian Science, is it?” he returned.

“I’d rather never have a garden even like Miss Fletcher’s than to think that,” declared Hazel, as she went on with her supper.  “I feel so sorry for them!”

“So you’re going over to-morrow,” said Mr. Badger.  “What are you going to do; treat the little invalid?”

“Why, no indeed, not unless she asks me to.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be error; it’s the worst kind of impoliteness to treat anybody that doesn’t ask you to; but I’ve got to know every minute that her belief is a lie, and that God doesn’t know anything about it.”

“I thought God knew everything,” said Mr. Badger, regarding the child curiously.