126 A GARDEN OF PLEASURE 



evening primrose takes care of itself ever 

 after. We have them growing in a line 

 along the Larch walk, all twined about and 

 dressed with a large-blossomed wreathing 

 pink convolvulus. Another company of 

 them edging an evergreen border shine in 

 the light of loveliness out of the sombre 

 brown of cryptomerian darkness. Alas ! 

 QEnothera owns one fatal flaw. It is hard 

 even to whisper of its repulsive smell a 

 smell which is also so sensitive that the 

 flower seems to give it out or retain it at 

 will. At night, if the stem be shaken, or 

 if the flower-cup trembles at the touch of a 

 moth as it alights, out pours the dreadful 

 odour. I shall hope some day, for the 

 perfumed white variety. Another old love 

 of former years is the Indian moonflower. 

 Some of the large white seeds were sent 

 us in the winter from Madras, and now I 

 am anxiously watching the growth of two 

 fine plants which sprung from them. It 

 used to blow at the end of July, when the 

 moon was full, between 9 and 10 at night; 

 opening wide, like a pure white con- 

 volvulus, with a delicious scent. 



