OUR SENTIMENTAL GARDEN 



as pretty a thing as we have ever seen in a border / the 

 blossoms seeming to drift on their slender stems, one above 

 the other like little sunset clouds. 



What has been for once a complete pleasure is the wide 

 bed under the drawing-room window. The Ceanothus 

 which loves us has been a treasure of delicate bloom,- 

 and, against it, the great old bushes of lavender have thrust 

 their spikes in profusion. Just the right tone to harmonize. 

 Then the Longiflorum Liliesexcellent, sturdy, conscien- 

 tious darlings ! have lifted their satin shining trumpets 

 above the Heliotrope that loves us too / and Lobelia, the 

 one vivid line of colour, has rimmed the thick cushion of 

 "Mrs. Sinkins' " foliage most artistically. The grey -green 

 gives the finishing touch to a really reposeful combination. 

 There are also two or three clumps of Nicotiana Affinis, 

 softly mauve, and faded purple crimson. To gaze at that 

 corner against the amethyst of the moor is a never-ending 

 delight. 



But another garden disaster has been the annihilation of all 

 the seedlings which we sowed in the open border ! It is 

 laughable now, but sad too, to turn back the pages and 

 read the vainglorious project of running a dazzling ribbon 

 of Nemophila against the Dorothy Perkins hedge. <It might 

 have been frightful / so perhaps Providence kindly inter- 

 vened!) But that Nigella "Miss Jekyll" should have 

 refused her mysterious and pretty presence in the Blue 

 Border is a deep disappointment. 



We are again gnashing our teeth over the Blue Border. 

 The fact is, we suppose, it is too much to expect beauty 

 all the year round, no matter how boastfully garden writers 

 inform you of their artifices in that direction : how cleverly, 

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