But nothing had happened, and the picture proved a great success, many of them being sold at the fair.

“I don’t like it much,” said Beth, when she saw one, “for it reminds me of how I forgot to take care of my Grandmother Van Stork.”

“It will do you good, I trust,” said her mother.

“It’ll improve my thinkery, I hope,” said Beth.

CHAPTER XV The Lost Invitation

    A heartache when the heart is young,
      Seems quite too big to bear;
    But when it ends in laughter,
      Away goes every care.

When they started to return the next day, Beth in triumph mounted Ninkum.  She had a little difficulty in turning around to wave a farewell to dear grandmother on the porch, because the pony took this opportune time to munch the grass at the road-side, and Beth nearly went over his head.

“Dear me, Ninkum, you are very rude,” she said, much vexed.  “You try to spill me off, besides making Grandmother Van Stark feel as though you didn’t have enough to eat while you were visiting her!”

There was another disturbing feature also, and that was sister, whose countenance kept peering above the phaeton top, and who shouted exceedingly unwelcome advice, until silenced and firmly seated by the maternal command.

However, these were small things, compared with the bliss of galloping down the smooth road, bordered by flowers and green fields.

“I am very fond of wild flowers,” said Ethelwyn by and by, “because they come right from God’s garden, and they keep things so cheerful and bright out in the country.”

“I remember some verses about wild flowers and woods that a friend of mine wrote,” said mother, “and I intend sometime to put some of them to music.”

“O say one, mother,” said Ethelwyn, who loved verses.  So Mrs. Rayburn began: 

    “I know a quiet place,
      Where a spring comes gurgling out,
    And the shadowed leaves like lace
      Fall on the ground about.

    “A tempting grapevine swing
      Is swung from the near-by trees,
    And life is a dreamful thing
      Lulled by the birds and bees.

    “Flowers at the great trees’ feet
      Are sheltered quite from harm;
    For above the blossoms sweet,
      The oak holds forth his arm.

    “Perhaps if I lie quite still,
      I may hear far down below,
    The first and joyous thrill
      Of things, when they start to grow.”

“I’ve wondered if they do get out of the seed with a little cracky pop,” said Ethelwyn.

“What, sister?” asked Beth, coming up on Ninkum.

“Flowers and things.”

“I’ve wondered how things know how to make themselves flowers, and not potatoes, or something like that,” said Beth; “but I suppose God tells them.”

“And I’ve often thought what was it that makes part of them stalk and leaves, and then all at once end in a flower,” said Ethelwyn.  Then, after a moment’s silence, she proposed, “Let’s have another game.”