"mother loves roses," and the tears came into her eyes. "Granny, do
you think my roses will all be gone before mother comes for me?"

"Your--mother! Is she coming?" Patience was so taken aback that she
spoke in almost a dismayed tone, and Jessie, with her loving little
heart and quick ears, noticed it and was hurt. It sounded to her as
though her granny did not want her mother; and her chin quivered and
her eyes filled, for she wanted her mother very much, and every one
else should want her too, she thought.

Her grandfather saw the poor little quivering lips and tear-filled
eyes, and understood. "The rose may be past," he said cheerfully,
"for the time, any way, but we'll have flowers of some kind ready for
mother whenever she comes. 'Tis you and I, little maid, will see to
that, won't we? We must make it our business to have something
blooming all the year round, then we'll be sure to be right."

Jessie looked up at him gratefully, and the tears changed to smiles.
Something told her that granp would be glad to see mother whenever
she came. The thought of growing flowers for her was a lovely one,
too; it seemed to bring her mother nearer; and, though granny and
granp were so kind, oh, she did want her so very, very much.
She wanted her to see the garden and the house, and the kitten, and
to have bacon and eggs for breakfast, and milk in her tea, and nice
butter on her bread.

Then, in the midst of these thoughts, something that granny was
saying caught her attention, and, for the moment, drove all other
thoughts out of her head.