XXVII 



TIME has run 

 away with us, and 

 the garden chronicle 

 has been silent. The 

 Ramblers have 

 blazed in the garden, 

 more especially the 

 indefatigable "Do- 

 rothy/ 7 till one has 

 grown almost tired 

 of such a repetition 

 of vivid pink. 

 The Mistress of the 

 Villino has been 

 planning " toning- 

 down effects " for 

 next year and means 

 to run a border of 

 Catmint or Dwarf 

 Lavender against the 

 " Dorothy " hedge. 



The Lily Walk, which we shall have to call by 

 another name, since, with a few exceptions, the Lilies 

 decline to have anything to say to it, is, should the 

 scheme contemplated be successful, to show a cool 

 vista of greys, lavender blues, and " rose mourante " 

 behind the arch where the same irrepressible Perkins 

 flaunts herself in such splendour. The Delphiniums, 

 which have done so well there, will have spent their 



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