It was more than three months since she had been able to do anything, and
Grandma Rugg was very harsh and severe with her in consequence. There
were black and blue places on her shoulders now where she had been
beaten, but Arch did not know it. Mat never spoke to him about her
sufferings, because it distressed him so, and made him very angry with
the old woman.

He went in and sat down on the straw beside Mat; and almost before he
knew it he was telling her about Margie Harrison. He always brought all
his joys and sorrows to Mat now, just as he used to carry them to his
mother.

The girl listened intently, the spots on her face growing deeper and
wider. She looked at the bluebells wistfully, but would not touch them.
Arch offered her a spray. She shook her head sadly.

"No," she said, "they are not for me. Keep them, Arch. Some time, I
think, you will be rich and happy, and have all the flowers and beautiful
things you wish."

"If I ever am, Mat, you shall be my queen, and dress in gold and silver!"
answered the boy, warmly; "and never do any more heavy work to make your
hands hard."

"You are very good, Arch," she said. "I thank you, but I shall not be
there, you know. I think I am going away--going where I shall see my
mother, and your mother, too. Arch, and where all the world will be full
of flowers! Then I shall think of you, Arch, and wish I could send you
some."