seem as if the Doctor must have been the gardener, for he picked off
some dead ones, and put them absently in his pocket. Then he looked
round as if to see that he was alone. Not a soul was to be seen, and
the moonlight and shadow lay quietly side by side, as the dead do in
their graves. The Doctor stooped down and took off his hat.

"Good-night, Marcia," he said in a low quiet voice. "Good-night, my
darling!" The dog licked his hand, but there was no voice to answer,
nor any that regarded.

Poor foolish Doctor! Most foolish to speak to the departed with his
face earthwards. But we are weak mortals, the best of us; and this man
(one of the very best) raised his head at last, and went home like a
lonely owl with his face to the moon and the sky.


A BORROWED BROWNIE.


"I can't imagine," said the Rector, walking into the drawing-room the
following afternoon; "I can't imagine where Tiny is. I want her to
drive to the other end of the parish with me."

"There she comes," said his wife, looking out of the window, "by the
garden-gate, with a great basket; what has she been after?"

The Rector went out to discover, and met his daughter looking decidedly
earthy, and seemingly much exhausted by the weight of a basketful of
groundsel plants.