COMMUTER'S WIFE 3 



at the foot of the garden ; the water settles and the 

 mice come out of the wall and eat them or they rot. 

 I've only three hyacinths and four tulips left, but 

 then I didn't plant very many. When I marry I'm 

 going to push all the vegetables over the fence into 

 the field and have nothing but flowers here, and I'm 

 going to buy bulbs and roses by the hundred instead 

 of by sixes. . . . Pocket money doesn't go far for 

 plants when I have to buy gloves out of it to wear to 

 that stupid dancing class and have such very warm 

 hands. Aunt Lot promised that I should join, and I 

 couldn't go back on one of the family. But of 

 course when I'm married I shall be too old for that 

 sort of thing, which will be a great economy besides 

 letting me grub in peace. . . . Aunt Lot says that 

 I shall have changed my mind by then." 



That was seven years ago, and lo and behold, here 

 I am by the same garden wall, married, but my mind 

 otherwise unchanged, and with bulbs by the hundred, 

 lying in their stout manila bags under the apple tree, 

 waiting to be planted. It seems a lifetime ago, the 

 coming about of it all, yet scarcely longer than the 

 week since our return, so many things have been 

 crowded into it. 



To begin with, Bluff knew me ! At first I was not 

 sure if the recognition was genuine, for the astute 



