FRANKNESS AND GARDENING 217 



tried half a dozen others, no equivalent seemed to fit. 

 I had flowers in every room in the house, bedchambers 

 included, using in this connection the cleanest-breathed 

 and longest-lived blossoms possible. 



Late as was the sowing, the annuals remaining in the 

 seed bed have begun to yield a glorious crop. The 

 fireplaces were filled with black-eyed Susans from the 

 fields and hollyhocks from an old self-seeded colony at 

 Opal Farm, and every available vase, bowl, and pitcher 

 had something in it. How I laboured ! I washed jars, 

 sorted colours, and freshened still passable arrangements 

 of the day before, and all the while I felt sure that Maria 

 was watching me, with an amused twinkle in the tail 

 of her eye ! 



One day, the middle of last week, the temperature 

 dropped suddenly, and we fled from camp to the house 

 for twenty-four hours, lighted the logs in the hall, and 

 actually settled down to a serious game of whist in the 

 evening, Maria Maxwell, The Man, Bart, and I. Yes, I 

 know how you detest the game, but I though I am not 

 exactly amused by it rather like it, for it gives occupa- 

 tion at once for the hands and thoughts and a cover for 

 studying the faces and moods of friends without the 

 reproach of staring. 



By the way, The Man has hired half the house from 



