Betty helped to bring it, though she never guessed that her measles were a blessing to her dear lady. When Dr. Strong, finding a hot-house bouquet beside her bed, very naturally asked where it came from, Betty told all about Miss Helen, from the time of the red tulips to the fine tea-roses in her hand. "She has lots of bunches like these sent to her, and she gives 'em to us poor folks. This one was for her to take to a splendid ball, but she kept it all fresh, and came herself to fetch it to me. Ain't she kind?" "Very, to you; but rather cruel to the gentlemen who hope to see her wear their gifts, for one evening at least," answered the doctor, examining the bouquet, with an odd smile. "Oh, she does keep some, when they are from folks she likes. I was there one day when some violets come in with a book, and she wouldn't give me one. But I didn't care a mite, for I had two great posies, all red geranium and pinks, instead." "She likes violets, then?" and the doctor gently patted Betty's head, as if he had grown suddenly fond of her. "I guess she does, for when I went the next week, that very bunch was in the vase on her table, all dead and yeller, and she wouldn't let me fling it away, when I wanted to put in a rose from the bush she gave me." "You are a grateful little girl, my dear, and a very observing child. Now keep warm and quiet, and we'll have you trotting off to Miss Helen's in a week or so." The doctor stole a sprig of rose geranium out of Betty's last bouquet, and went away, looking as if he had found something even sweeter than that in the dingy room where his patient lay. Next day Miss Helen had fresh violets in the vase on her table, and fresh roses blooming on her cheeks. Dr. Strong advised her not to visit Betty, as there was fever in the neighborhood, but kindly called every day or two, to let Helen know how her little friend was getting on. After one of these calls, the doctor went away, saying to himself, with an air of tender pride and satisfaction,-- "I was mistaken, and judged too hastily last year. Helen is not what I thought her, a frivolous, fashionable beauty, but a sweet, sensible girl, who is tired of that empty life, and quietly tries to make it beautiful and useful in the best and truest way. I hope I read the blue eyes right; and I think I may venture to say now what I dared not say last year." After that same visit, Helen sat thinking to herself, with a face full of happiness and humility,--"He finds me improved, so I have not waited in vain, and I believe that I shall not be disappointed after all." It is evident that the doctor did venture, and that Helen was not disappointed; for, on the first day of June, Betty and her mother, all in their best, went to a certain church, and were shown to the best seat in the gallery, where several other humble friends were gathered to see their dear Miss Helen married.