THE CHARM OF GARDENS 



grass, and the story goes that he slipped, and Bois 

 ran him through as he lay on the grass. What flowers 

 grow over his head now ? And Perpetua is dead. 

 They say she ran out and saw her lover dead, and 

 bared her breast to her husband's sword. The grass 

 was wet with her blood when you saw Lord Bois ride 

 madly down the drive, through the gates, and out into 

 the open country. The smile Sir Peter Lely painted is 

 carved by the hand of Death. She was only a girl, 

 after all. Who places flowers on her grave ? " 



Meanwhile the sun shone on the Bluebells, and struck 

 odd leaves of the trees, picking them out with a fanciful 

 finger till they shone like green fires. 



Then the idea came to me that this wood held the 

 spirit of Lady Perpetua fast for ever. The Bluebells 

 were the satin sheen of her dress (blue like the Lely 

 portrait), the red-brown autumn leaves and the dead 

 Bracken were her hair ; the Wind Flowers, like her 

 body linen ; the Violets, her eyes ; the Primroses, 

 her breath ; the Cowslips, her golden ornaments ; the 

 Daisy petals like her pure white skin. A gentle breeze 

 stirred all the flowers together, and behold ! there 

 she was, alive. The wood was yielding up her secret, 

 as woods and flowers will do to those who love them. 



So the Stone Dog and I had a bond of sympathy 

 between us, the bond of old memories, and the wood 

 united us with its store of romance and beauty : and 

 he who loves wild flowers and woods, as well as walled 

 gardens and trees clipped in images, may gather store 

 of pictures for his mind. 



So the afternoon passed in this pleasant manner, and 

 I took opportunity to speak once more to the Stone 

 Dog before the woodcutter's children came home from 

 school to spoil our peace. 



I said, " There is no man so poor but he can afford 



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