"That's so," Evaline replied, brightening up.

"And I'm very glad your mother thought of this," Marty went on, "for it would be dreadful disappointing not to have any flowers for the ladies when they come, and not to get any more missionary money."

Again Evaline agreed with her, and the work went on.

In about half an hour there was quite a large clean patch, and much encouraged by seeing the progress they were making, they worked more diligently than ever. Then Marty had a sentimental idea that it might help them along to sing a missionary hymn, but found upon trial that it was more of a hindrance than a help.

"I can't sing when I'm all doubled up this way," she said, "and anyway when I find a very tough weed I have to stop singing and pull. Then I forget what comes next."

"I guess it's better to work while you work and sing afterward," was Evaline's opinion.

Here they heard somebody laughing, and looking up saw Mrs. Ashford, who had come out to see how they were getting on.

"I think Evaline is about right," she said; "singing and weeding don't go together very well. But how nicely you have been doing! Why, you are nearly half through!"

"Yes, ma'am," said Evaline, "and the other side of the circle a'n't half so bad as this was. We'll easy get it done to-morrow morning."

"Yes; and, mamma," cried Marty, "we've got them out good. I don't believe there'll ever be another weed here!"

"They'll be as bad as ever after a while," said Evaline, who knew them of old.

Marty was pretty tired that evening and did not feel like running about as much as usual.

"There now!" exclaimed Mrs. Stokes, looking at Marty as she sat on the porch steps after supper leaning back against her mother, "there now!

you're all beat out. 'T was too hard work for you. I oughtn't to have let you do it."

"Oh! indeed, Mrs. Stokes, I'm not so very tired," cried Marty, "and I was glad to do it."

Another hour's work the next morning finished the weeding, and the girls reflected with satisfaction that they had earned their flowers. Mrs.

Stokes said the work was done "beautiful," and Hiram, who was brought to inspect it, said they had done so well that he had a great mind to have them come down to the field and hoe corn.

Thursday morning early they gathered and put in water enough flowers for seven fair-sized bouquets, thinking they had better have one more than Miss f.a.n.n.y mentioned in case an extra lady came. By four o'clock these flowers--and how lovely and fragrant they were!--with Mrs. Ashford's valuable a.s.sistance were made into tasteful bouquets, placed on an old tray with their stems lightly covered with wet moss, and set in the coolest corner of the porch. The children, including Freddie, all nicely dressed, took up position on the steps, partly to keep guard over the flowers and prevent Ponto from lying down on them, and partly to watch for their callers.

Marty's bright eyes were the first to see the carriages.

"There they come around the bend!" she exclaimed, and shortly a carryall driven by Jim Dutton, and containing three ladies and two children, followed by a buck-board wherein sat Miss f.a.n.n.y and Miss Dora, drew up at the gate.

Evaline's shyness came on in full force and she hung back, but Marty, with Freddie holding her hand, proceeded down the walk. They were met by Miss f.a.n.n.y, who had thrown the reins to her friend and jumped out the moment the horse stopped. She kissed Marty, s.n.a.t.c.hed up Freddie, exclaiming, "What a darling little boy!" and called out, "Come down here, Evaline! I want to see you."

Mrs. Stokes, who was too hospitable to see people so near her house without inviting them in, now came forward to give the invitation, and as they were obliged to decline on the score of lateness, she called Almira to bring some cool spring water for them. Seeing Freddie approaching dangerously near one of the horses, Marty cried, "Freddie, Freddie, come away from the horse!" and he gravely inquired, "What's the matter with the poor old horse?"

This made every one laugh and brought Mrs. Ashford from the porch to take his hand and keep him out of danger. So they were all a.s.sembled at the roadside, and quite a pleasant, lively time they had.

The flowers were asked for and Evaline brought them, while Marty explained why they were garden instead of wild flowers, and Mrs. Stokes told how the girls earned them. The bouquets were extremely admired.

When proposing the plan in the woods, Miss f.a.n.n.y had suggested "ten-cent" bouquets, but everybody said ten cents was entirely too cheap for such large, beautifully arranged ones, that fifteen cents was little enough. There was one composed entirely of sweet peas, as Mrs. Ashford said those delicate flowers looked prettier by themselves. This Miss f.a.n.n.y seized upon, insisted on paying twenty cents for, and presented to a pale, sweet-faced lady in mourning.

She drew Marty to the side of the carriage where this lady was, and said in a low voice,

"Mrs. Thurston, this is the little girl I told you of--the Missionary Twig who doesn't leave her missionary zeal at home when she goes away in vacation."

The lady smiled affectionately as she pressed Marty's hand, and said,

"I am glad to meet such an earnest little comrade."

"Oh! but you don't know," protested Marty. "I came very near forgetting the whole thing. Indeed, it went out of my head altogether from Tuesday till Sunday."

The ladies laughed, and Miss f.a.n.n.y said,

"Mrs. Thurston was a missionary in India for many years, Marty, and would be there yet if she was able."

"India!" exclaimed Marty, with wide-open eyes. "In Lah.o.r.e!"

She had heard more about Lah.o.r.e than any other place, and to her it seemed like the princ.i.p.al city in India.

"Oh, no!" replied Mrs. Thurston. "Far from there, hundreds of miles.

Lah.o.r.e, you know, is in Northern India, in the part known as the Punjab, while my home was in the extreme south near a city called Madura. Are you especially interested in Lah.o.r.e?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's where our band sends its money. We have a school there. That is, we pay the teacher. It is one of those little schools in a room rented from a poor woman, who does her work in one corner while the school is going on, and the teacher is a native."

"Ah, yes; I understand."

"Mrs. C---- is the missionary who superintends it, along with a lot of other schools. Do you know her?"

"No, but I have seen her name in the missionary papers."

"Did you have some of those little schools when you were a missionary, Mrs. Thurston?" Marty inquired.

"Yes, I did some school work, but more zenana work."

"What is zenana work?"

Just then Mrs. Thurston noticed that preparations were being made to drive on, so she merely replied,

"Come down to the village and see me, and we will have a good missionary talk."

"Thank you ever so much," said Marty. "I do hope mamma will let me go."

Evaline was quite overcome when she learned that Mrs. Thurston was a "real live missionary," and said,

"She's the first one I ever saw. I wonder if they're all as nice as that."

After consultation with her mother, Marty decided to give half her "flower money"--which altogether amounted to eighty cents--to the mountain band, and keep the other half for the home band. "Because, you see, this is all out-and-out missionary money; there's no t.i.thing to be done," she said.

Evaline never felt so large in her life as she did when going to the band meeting the next Sunday, with her eighty cents ready to hand to Hugh Campbell.

The Sat.u.r.day following that memorable Thursday, Miss f.a.n.n.y and Miss Mary again presented themselves at the farmhouse, where they were welcomed like old friends. After some pleasant chat, and a lunch of gingerbread and fresh b.u.t.termilk, Miss f.a.n.n.y said,

"We came this morning chiefly to bring you an invitation from Mrs.

Thurston. She wants you all, or as many as possible, to come to an all-day missionary meeting at the hotel next Tuesday."