kind to her?"

"Well, this is how it is,"--and Heiri drew a little nearer the hedge and
spoke in a confidential tone--"the little girl is more like me, and
gives in easily and is not obstinate about having her own way, as her
poor mother was. She does what she is bid, and never answers back when
Marget scolds, nor ever complains, though she has to work from the time
she gets home from school till she goes to bed; always carrying the
baby, or doing something about the house."

"But you must not let her do too much, Heiri," said Mrs. Stein
seriously. "I am very anxious about her. Ask Marget to come over and see
me: tell her I have some clothes which my children have out-grown, and I
should like to give them to her if she will come for them."

"Thank you; I will certainly send her. Good-night I hope you will have
good luck with the cauliflowers"; and, with another shake of his good
friend's hand, Heiri went off to the smithy.

The doctor's wife stood lost in thought for several minutes. She was
looking towards her vegetables, but she was thinking of neither beet nor
cauliflower, though her eyes were resting on the neat rows before her.
This talk with Heiri had brought the old days of her childhood forcibly
back to her memory. She saw the pretty Gritli with her big brown eyes,
as she used to sit weaving forget-me-nots into pretty wreaths with her
skilful fingers; always putting a few into her belt and into her hair.
Gritli was the child of poor parents, but she was always neatly dressed,
and, though her clothes were of the coarsest stuff, yet there was a
peculiar look of daintiness about her, which, with the bit of color in
flower or ribbon that was never wanting in her costume, gave the