COMMUTER'S WIFE 137 



face was strangely lighted, and putting an arm 

 around my waist and Evan's shoulder, he drew us 

 together, saying, "Children, your lives, I believe, 

 will be a long walk through the garden of your 

 affections, and your old father thanks God that he 

 is allowed to walk even a small part of it with 

 you." 



The hardy roses and shrubs that Evan had 

 bought also as a birthday gift to supplement those 

 we already had, have been banked up in the vege- 

 table garden until the borders are rearranged. Of 

 course we take a risk in planting things so late. 

 October is a better time ; but if we Ijave a close 

 snowy winter, there is little danger, and we shall 

 put straw jackets on the roses until they are estab- 

 lished. On the other hand, if one waits to plant 

 hardy things until spring, the ground may be late 

 in thawing, and a whole season's bloom lost. 



How delightfully the damp earth around the 

 plant roots smelled when Evan unpacked them this 

 morning. I think I must have a tinge of poor 

 Peter Schmidt's love of the soil, irrespective of 

 what it produces, in my nature, for the various 

 earth odours all have a separate tale to tell, and 



