“And you may call me Mother, if you wish, dear,” added Mary Frances’ mother.
“Oh, it seems so cozy and lovely!” sighed the little girl.
“Well, now, my girlies, since the secrets are told, why not get Billy to help you plant the wild flower seeds?”
“All right!” they cried, jumping up and kissing her before they ran away.
“Oh, Billy! Billy!” they shouted as they saw him in the garden.
“Here come ‘our twins’,” laughed Billy, turning toward his father. “I wonder what’s up.”
“Hello, girls,” he answered as they came near. “What can we do for you?”
“Oh, Billy, and Father, have you heard the news? Of course you have! Eleanor is to be my sister, and yours, Billy, and she’s to call Father, Father; and Mother, Mother; aren’t you, dear?” said Mary Frances, kissing Eleanor, who smiled shyly.
“Whew!” exclaimed Billy. “Stop for breath, Mary Frances, can’t you? If Nell were as bad as you——”
“I guess all that Billy means to say,” interposed his father, “is that we’re all glad that such a good little girl is to come live with us.”
“You’ll have to live up to that reputation, young lady,” laughed Billy.
“And now,” Mary Frances produced the packages of wild flower seeds, “we want our brother to help us plant seeds.”
“What kind of seeds are they?” questioned her father.
“We got them in the woods where we gathered the wild flowers,” answered Mary Frances.
“No wonder I couldn’t find you,” Billy commented. “Where do you think they’d better be planted, Father?”
“Not near a garden of cultivated flowers,” said his father.
“No,” Billy remarked, “for we learned that the cross-fertilization or a mixture of pollen might bring very poor flowers in the garden if wild ones were planted too near, and might also fill it up with weeds.”
“Down in this corner would be a good place, it seems to me,” said their father, leading the way.
“I’ll be with you as soon as I get my spade and fork,” called Billy.
Everybody helped, and the bed was soon planted.
“I know they’ll all grow for Jack——” Eleanor began.
Mary Frances pinched her arm, and Eleanor just caught herself in time.
“For Jack Frost will not get here soon enough to harm them,” finished Eleanor.
“He’ll not be here in time to harm the perennial kind,” Billy said.
“No,” his father took up the thought, “August is an ideal time to plant the seeds of perennials.”