Sun Rose and Spiraea 



"I . . . I don't know. . . . Perhaps I have." 



" Have you a slum in your soul, Elisabeth ? " 



" Certainly not ! " 



Elisabeth ! 



Denial is useless. There is certainly a slum in 

 my own, and I don't believe I am much worse (or 

 better) than other people. 



You have seen all the garden now, and confess 

 that there is a glimmer of light in your darkness : 

 confess, Jane, that your code does not seem so 

 easy to apply as it used to do : and confess, Elisa- 

 beth, that the reformation of the human race is 

 not the trifling task you thought it ; confess that, 

 if your schemes are to succeed, you must first 

 abolish the human race. . . . What do you say ? 



Jane coughs. 



Elisabeth plucks at her gloves and clucks in 

 her throat : " Well ! " she says, " I must admit 

 that there is something . . . ! " 



" Very good," say I, and on that we leave it, 

 and more or less agree that life is a garden full of 

 colour and joy if it be tended with humanity and 

 a due observance of Nature's laws : else, if these 

 be neglected, and amid unceasing change it be 

 sought to implant a fixed idea, it becomes a barren 

 waste. . . . Let that stand for the moral of this, 

 my Happy Garden. Now we are all happy, or as 



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