i8o A WHITE-PAPER GARDEN 



treasure of old gardens the citronella, or 

 lemon verbena. It is rarely seen ; it does not 

 grow for everybody, and it has its own high 

 reserves. I have long had a fancy that it 

 would only content itself under the care of those 

 gentlewomen whose lives are spent in the quiet 

 and fragrant corners as yet untouched by what 

 we call " the world." Engaged in the cares 

 of their well-ordered households ; remember- 

 ing the Sabbath and the poor ; careful ; frugal 

 toward themselves, yet royal in their generous 

 thought of others ; fresh with the dainty fresh- 

 ness of well-laundered linen in a word, the 

 pure in heart, who see God everywhere, are the 

 ladies for whom the citronella grows. They 

 grow other things also, these lovely types of 

 gentle womanhood lilies-of-the-valley, little 

 double white daisies, myosotis, clove-pinks, 

 little pink Hermosa roses, little white violets, 

 rose geraniums, and small-flowered pink and 

 white and yellow chrysanthemums ; but they 

 always have a bed of mignonette, and a plant 

 or two of heliotrope, and always, always, when 

 they say good-bye to a guest, at the doorway 

 to which their old-time courtesy has attended 

 her, they stoop down and break off a twig of 



