VIII 

 A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 



(Mary Penrose to Barbara Campbell) 



June 21. The rosary has been duly surveyed, 

 staked according to the plan, and the border lines 

 fixed with the garden line dipped in whitewash, so 

 that if we only plant a bed at a time, our ambition will 

 always be before us. But as yet no man cometh to dig. 

 This process is of greater import than it may seem, 

 because with the vigorous three-year-old sod thus ob- 

 tained do we purpose to turf the edges of the beds 

 for hardy and summer flowers that border the squares 

 of the vegetable garden. These strips now crumble 

 earth into the walks, and the slightest footfall is fol- 

 lowed by a landslide. We had intended to use narrow 

 boards for edging, but Bart objects, like the old retainer 

 in Kipling's story of An Habitation Enforced, on the 

 ground that they will deteriorate from the beginning 

 and have to be renewed every few years, whereas the 

 turf will improve, even if it is more trouble to care for. 



At present the necessity of permanence is one of the 



