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SYLVIE AND BRUNO.

"Then after that," I went on, "the walks want sweeping a bit; and I think you might cut down that tall nettle——it's so close to the garden that it's quite in the way——"

"What is oo talking about?" Bruno impatiently interrupted me. "All that won't vex her a bit!"

"Won't it?" I said, innocently. "Then, after that, suppose we put in some of these coloured pebbles——just to mark the divisions between the different kinds of flowers, you know. That'll have a very pretty effect."

Bruno turned round and had another good stare at me. At last there came an odd little twinkle into his eyes, and he said, with quite a new meaning in his voice, "That'll do nicely. Let's put 'em in rows——all the red together, and all the blue together."

"That'll do capitally," I said; "and then——what kind of flowers does Sylvie like best?"

Bruno had to put his thumb in his mouth and consider a little before he could answer, "Violets," he said, at last.

"There's a beautiful bed of violets down by the brook——"