"Going away, my little girl going off?" said Aunt Ruth seriously.

"Yes; and mamma said we couldn't move Chip, it would be such a bother,
so I have given poor birdie away to Allie Smith;" tears flowing afresh.
"I let Amy Wells have my kitten, but I haven't found a place for my poor
little rose. See," said Bessie, going to the table and removing the
wrapper from her parcel, "isn't it a beauty? You will keep it to
remember me by, and take care of it always, won't you, Aunt Ruth?"

The little blossoms were out in full, and seemed to smile a benediction
upon the old woman.

"Yes, yes, child, I will keep your rose; no harm shall come to it." The
little plant seemed to carry her thoughts away, for she began talking
absently to herself, then recalling her musings she said:--"So you are
going away; and you'll forget all about poor Aunt Ruth with so many new
friends. Well, well, it's natural."

[Illustration: "Yes, child, I will keep your rose."]

"No, no, indeed I shall not," said Bessie, giving her a hearty hug, "and
sometime I will come to see you." They talked a long time, but at last,
with a good-by kiss to Aunt Ruth, and to the pet rose, she was gone like
a flitting sunbeam.

Then the shadows seemed to come back to the inmate of the old house; but
as her glance fell upon the little flower, she began clearing a place
for it to stand in the warmest corner, musing to herself the while:--