286 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



well as the bottom of the sleigh itself, was filled with 

 a jumble of magenta petunias and flame- coloured 

 nasturtiums. 



After we had passed down a village street a quarter 

 of a mile long, bordered on either side by floral com- 

 binations of this description, the sight began to pall, 

 and I wondered how it was possible that any flowers 

 well watered and cared for could produce such a feel- 

 ing of positive aversion as well as eye- strained fatigue; 

 also, if this was all that the Cortrights had driven us 

 many miles to see, when it was so much more in- 

 teresting to lounge on either of the porches of their 

 own cottage, the one commanding the sea and the 

 other the sand garden, the low dunes, and the marsh 

 meadows. 



"It is only half a mile farther on," said Aunt La- 

 vinia, quick to feel that we were becoming bored, with- 

 out our having apparently given any sign to that effect. 



"It! What is it?" asked Bart, while I, without 

 shame it is confessed, having a ravenous appetite, 

 through outdoor living, hoped that it was some quaint 

 and neat little inn that "refreshed travellers," as it 

 was expressed in old-time wording. 



"How singular!" ejaculated Aunt Lavinia; "I 

 thought I told you last night when we were in the 



