Even now, while St.Clare stood there thinking, little Rosa tripped softly into the chamber with a basket of white flowers.

She stepped back when she saw St.Clare, and stopped respectfully; but, seeing that he did not observe her, she came forward to place them around the dead.

St.Clare saw her as in a dream, while she placed in the small hands a fair cape jessamine, and, with admirable taste, disposed other flowers around the couch.
The door opened again, and Topsy, her eyes swelled with crying, appeared, holding something under her apron.

Rosa made a quick forbidding gesture; but she took a step into the room.
"You must go out," said Rosa, in a sharp, positive whisper; "_you_ haven't any business here!" "O, do let me! I brought a flower,--such a pretty one!" said Topsy, holding up a half-blown tea rose-bud.

"Do let me put just one there." "Get along!" said Rosa, more decidedly.
"Let her stay!" said St.Clare, suddenly stamping his foot.