of heaven and of hell, and though he had never thought much about either of them, he had a kind of feeling that some day he must go to one or other. Hell, he had heard, was for bad people, and heaven for good ones; and though Solomon tried to persuade himself that he belonged to the latter class, he could not quite come to that opinion. There was something in his heart which told him all was not right with him, and made the subject an unpleasant one. He wished Dot would let it drop, and not talk to him any more about it; and then he went into a reverie about Dot, and Dot's daisies, and all her pretty little ways.

It was the afternoon of the same day, and Dot was sitting beside her little girl's grave, trying to make the daisies look more pretty by putting some leaves among them, when she heard footsteps crossing the broad gravel path. She jumped up, and peeped behind the trees to see who was coming. It was the lady and gentleman whom she had seen at the funeral, and they were coming to look at their little grave. Dot felt very shy, but she could not run away without meeting them, so she hid behind a hawthorn bush at the other side of the grave.

The little girl's papa and mamma came close to the grave, and Dot was so near that, as they knelt down beside it, she could hear a great deal of what they were saying. The lady was crying very much, and for some time she did not speak. But the gentleman said

"I wonder who has put these flowers here, my dear-how very pretty they are !"

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Yes," said the lady, through her tears; "and the grave was full of them yesterday."

"How pleased our little girl would have been!" said her papa; "she was so fond of daisies! Who can have done it?"

Little Dot heard all this from her hiding-place, and she felt very pleased that she had made her little girl's grave so pretty.

The lady cried a great deal as she sat by the grave; but, just before they left, Dot heard the gentleman say—

"Don't cry, dearest ; remember what our little Lilian said, the night before she died."

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Yes," said the lady, I will not forget." And she dried her eyes, and Dot thought she tried to smile as she looked up at the blue sky. Then she took a bunch of white violets which she had brought with her, and put them in the middle of the grave, but she did not move any of Dot's daisies, at which she looked very lovingly and tenderly.

As soon as they were gone Dot came out from behind the hawthorn bush. She went up to her little girl's grave, and kneeling on the grass beside it she smelt the white violets, and stroked them with her tiny hand. They made it look so much nicer, she thought; but she felt very glad that the lady had liked her daisies. She would gather some fresh ones

to-morrow.

Dot walked home very slowly. She had so much to think over. She knew her little girl's name now, and that she was fond of daisies. She would not forget that.

Dot felt very sorry for the poor lady; she wished she could tell her so. And then she began to wonder what it was that her little girl had said, the night before she died. It must be something nice, Dot thought, to make the lady wipe her eyes and try to smile. Perhaps the little girl had said she did not mind being put into the dark hole. Dot thought it could hardly be that, for she felt sure she would mind it very much indeed. Dot was sure she would be very frightened if she had to die, and old Solomon had to dig a grave for her. No, it could not be that which Lilian had said. Perhaps Solomon was right, and the little girl was asleep. If so, Dot hoped it would be a long, long time before she woke up again.

Solomon had left his work, or Dot would have told him about what she had seen. But it was tea-time now, and she must go home. Her mother was standing at the door looking out for her, and she called to the child to be quick and come in to tea.

Dot found her father at home, and they began their meal.

But little Dot was so quiet, and sat so still, that her father asked her what was the matter. Then she thought she would ask him what she wanted to know, for he was very kind to her, and generally tried to answer her questions.

So Dot told him about her little girl's grave, and what the lady and gentleman had talked about, and she asked what he thought the little girl had said, which had made her mother stop crying.

But Dot's father could not tell her. And when Dot said she was sure she would not like to be put in a hole like that, her father only laughed and told her not to trouble her little head about it—she was too young to think of such things.

"But my little girl was only just about as big as me,” said Dot, "'cause Mr. Solemn told me so."

This was an argument which her father could not answer, so he told Dot to be quick over her supper and get to bed. And when she was asleep he said to his wife that he did not think the cemetery was a good place for his little girl to play in it made her gloomy. But Dot's mother said it was better than the street, and Dot was too light-hearted to be dull long.

And whilst they were talking little Dot was dreaming of Lilian, and of what she had said, the night before she died.

CHAPTER V.-DOT'S BUSY THOUGHTS.

A day or two after, as Dot was putting fresh daisies on the little grave, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looking up she saw her little girl's mamma. She had come up very quietly, and Dot was so intent on what she was doing that she had not heard her. It was too late to run away, but the lady's face was so kind and loving, that the child could not be afraid. She took hold of Dot's little hand and sat down beside her, and then she said, very gently—

"Is this the little girl who gathered the daisies ?"

The lady seemed very pleased, and she asked Dot what

her name was, and where she lived. Then she said, "Dot, what was it made you bring these pretty flowers here ?"

Please," said the child, "it was 'cause Mr. Solemn said she was ever such a little girl--maybe about as big as me." "Who is Mr. Solemn ?" asked the lady.

"It's an old man-him as digs the graves; he made my little girl's grave," said Dot under her breath, " and he filled it up and all."

The tears came into the lady's eyes, and she stooped down and kissed the child.

Dot was beginning to feel quite at home with her little girl's mamma, and she stroked the lady's soft glove with her tiny hand.

They sat quite still for some time. Dot never moved, and the lady had almost forgotten her-she was thinking of her own little girl. The tears began to run down her cheeks though she tried to keep them back, and some of them fell upon Dot as she sat at her feet.

"I was thinking of my little girl," said the lady, as Dot looked sorrowfully up into her face.

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Please," said Dot, "I wonder what your little girl said to you the night before she died ?" She thought perhaps it might comfort the lady to think of it, as it had done so the other day.

The lady looked very surprised when Dot said this, as she had had no idea that the little girl was near when she was talking to her husband. "How did you know, Dot ?" she

asked.

"Please, I couldn't help it," said little Dot; "I was putting the daisies."

"Yes?" said the lady, and she waited for the child to go on.

"And I ran in there," said Dot, nodding at the hawthorn bush, "and I heard you-and please don't be angry." "I am not angry," said the lady.

Dot looked in her face, and saw she was gazing at her with a very sweet smile.

"I would like

very much

"Come and sit on

"Then please," said little Dot, to know what the little girl said." "I will tell you, Dot," said the lady. my knee."

There was a flat tombstone close by, on which they sat whilst the little girl's mamma talked to Dot. She found it very hard to speak about her child, it was so short a time since she had died. But she tried her very best, for the sake of the little girl who had covered the grave with daisies.

"Lilian was only ill a very short time," said the lady; a week before she died she was running about and playing-just as you have being doing to-day, Dot. But she took a bad cold, and soon the doctor told me my little girl must die."

"Oh !" said Dot, with a little sob, "I am so sorry for the poor little girl!”

"Lilian wasn't afraid to die, Dot,” said the lady.

"Wasn't she?" said Dot. "I should be frightened ever so much—but maybe she'd never seen Mr. Solemn bury anybody; maybe she didn't know she had to go into that dark hole."

"Listen, Dot," said the lady, "and I will tell you what my little girl said, the night before she died. 'Mamma,' she said, 'don't let Violet and Ethel think that I'm down deep in the cemetery, but take them out, and show them the blue sky and all the white clouds, and tell them, "Little sister Lilian's up there with Jesus." Violet and Ethel are my other little girls, Dot."

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Yes," said Dot, in a whisper; "I saw them at the funeral."

"So that is what my little girl said, Dot, which made me ́ stop crying the other night."

Dot looked very puzzled. There was a great deal that she wanted to think over, and to ask Solomon about.

The lady was obliged to go home, for it was getting late. She kissed the child before she went, and said she hoped Dot would see her little girl one day, above the blue sky.