a lady's house. The lady from whom you inherited it was one of my very oldest friends."
"You knew my Aunt Lucy?" cried Lucilla. "How splendid!"
"Yes. I have often been in this house—when I was a boy your aunt and her mother lived here. Your great-aunt, she must have been, by the way. I am pleased to see that you haven't altered anything."
"Oh no," said Jane; "how could we, when everything's so absolutely right?"
"That's true, and I compliment you on your clear sight in perceiving it. Now, Miss—Jane, you've told your tale admirably. And Miss Lucy has come up well in support. What do you expect me to do?"
"I hope you'll forgive us."
"Butter, butter, butter!" he said warningiy—"and not the best either. It isn't my forgiveness you covet. It's my forget-me-nots. Now I tell you candidly, I'm not going to play the part of the benevolent uncle and hand over Cedar Court to you to play the fool with."
"No, I suppose not," said Jane regretfully.
"But I'll tell you what I will do."
Jane clasped her hands and sat bolt upright on the sofa. "Oh, what?" she cried. "Tell us what you will do!"
"I will let you use the garden and cut the flowers. You may even employ a gardener if you like. I shall be the gainer by that."
"And we can cut all the flowers we like and bring them home here and sell them? Oh, thank you, thank you! How perfectly glorious!" Both girls took part in this spirited reception of the old gentleman's offer.
"Very glorious," he said drily, " having to buy a hand-cart or a barrow and lugging the flowers here in all weathers, dragging your petticoats through the rain, and spoiling the blooms. And nowhere to display them when you've got them here; besides destroying the whole atmosphere of Hope Cottage. No, I'll do better than that, young ladies. You
