Only then the children noticed that aunt Hazel had her bonnet on.

“Oh,” cried the child, bewildered, “are you going to do it?”

Miss Fletcher met her radiant eyes thoughtfully.  “If I should take the flower of consecration to the King, Hazel, I know what would be the first errand He would give me to do.  I am going to do it now.  Go on playing.  I shan’t be gone long.”

She moved away down the garden path and out of the gate.

“What do you suppose it is?” asked Flossie.

“I don’t know,” returned Hazel simply.  “Something right;” and then they took up their dolls again.

Miss Fletcher did not return very soon.  In fact, nearly an hour had slipped away before she came up the street, and then a man was with her.  As they entered the gate Hazel looked up.

“Uncle Dick, uncle Dick!” she cried gladly, jumping up and running to meet him.  He and Miss Fletcher both looked very happy, as they all moved over to Flossie’s chair.  Mr. Badger’s kind eyes looked down into hers and he carried her into the house in his strong arms.  Hazel followed, rolling the chair and having many happy thoughts; but she did not understand even a little of the situation until they all went into the dining-room and Flossie was carefully seated in the place the hostess indicated.

The white and gold tea-set was not in front of Flossie this time, but grouped about another place.  Hazel’s quick eyes noted that there were four seats, but before she had time to speak of the expected child—­happy owner of the tea-set—­uncle Dick spoke:—­

“Where do I go, aunt Hazel?”

The child’s eyes widened at such familiarity.  “Why, uncle Dick!” she ejaculated.

He and the hostess both regarded her, smiling.

“She is my aunt,” he said; and then he lifted Hazel into the chair before the pretty china.  “I believe these are your dishes,” he added.

The child leaned back in her chair and looked from one to another.  Slowly, slowly, she understood.  That was the aunt Hazel who gave her the silver spoon.  It had been aunt Hazel all the time!  She suddenly jumped down from her chair, and, running to Miss Fletcher, hugged her without a word.

Aunt Hazel embraced her very tenderly.  “Yes, my lamb,” she whispered, “error crept in, but it has crept out again, I hope forever;” and through the wide-open windows came the perfume of the quest flower:  pure, strong, beautiful,—­radiantly white in the evening glow.

* * * * *

Before Hazel went back to Boston, Flossie’s mother came to Miss Fletcher’s, and the change for the better in her little daughter filled her with wonder and joy.  With new hope she followed the line of treatment suggested by a little girl, and by the time another summer came around, two happy children played again in aunt Hazel’s garden, both as free as the sweet air and sunshine, for Divine Love had made Flossie “every whit whole.”