"Well, if I didn't think I smelled violets," exclaimed Rose; "and I could not believe it! Where—if it is not a secret, Auntie?" "No secret at all. You see, I lived here years ago, and I know where to look." The four gathered round her little vase, and took turns in smelling, till Jean said there would be no scent left. "But where did they grow?" asked Tom. "I knew long ago a certain bank under a hedge, where, sheltered from the winds and storms, and warmed by the sun, the violets grew and flourished. So this afternoon as I wanted a walk, I made my way to the old spot, and, presently, as I went along, something delicious seemed to surround me, and without thinking, I exclaimed, 'Violets!' And then laughed at myself, for what else was I searching for? So when I had found a few I sat down on the warm, sunny bank, and thought—" "You always have 'thoughts,' I do believe, Auntie," said Oswald. "Let's have them, then!" "I thought—I wondered whether we Christians could be like the violets." Jean smiled. "They are hidden," she said. "And sweet," said Tom. "And pleasant to look at, and have about you," said Rose. "And they fulfil their Maker's purpose," said Oswald, slowly, as if considering; "yes—they certainly do that—" "And when the great Gardener goes round His kingdom to seek them, there they are, ready to look up into His face and greet Him with joy," said Aunt Ruth. "And He sent them rain and showers and sunshine to help them to grow!" said Oswald. Aunt Ruth's eyes gave a little flash. "Yes!" she answered earnestly; "and He planted them just where He knew they would grow best; where He wished them to grow." "That's nice," said Jean, "for sometimes I'm discontented when things don't happen right, and I almost wish I were growing somewhere else!" "I often do!" said Tom, bluntly. "Well," said Aunt Ruth, "I fancy we all do. We think that any other cross but the one we have to carry would be more bearable. 'If we were in So-and-So's shoes, we could be much more contented!'" "Yes," said Rose; "I often think if I were in my friend Gertrude's place, I should not have half so many hindrances to being good!" Her eyes filled as she turned away. "Well," said Aunt Ruth, "if we are really wishing to please God in the circumstances in which He has put us, what I took as my violet-text may be a help to us; for though it speaks of humbleness, I think it is one of the most wonderfully exalting texts that can be!" "Let's have it, Auntie," said Oswald. "I like your plan of making the Bible into a book to live on!" She smiled brightly at that. "Here it is, then," she said; "'For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.'" "That's a very nice one," said Rose. "Thank you, Auntie!" CHAPTER XVII. SUMMER DAYS.