310 THE GARDEN OF A 



only good-smelling thing we have this year is rose 

 geranium, and we're done to death with it. Last 

 night I really believe the chef flavoured the ices 

 with it, and last week he candied some with rose 

 leaves, and they looked real well in my new pierced 

 silver basket." 



I do not think that I shall sit upon the piazza. 

 in the afternoon again for some time. I shall have 

 the seat mended up in the old cherry tree where I 

 used to perch and play princess in a tower and feel 

 romantic ten years ago, and then I can vanish among 

 the branches where nothing worse than tree-toads 

 and blue-jays can see me. 



I find myself wondering about Dora Penfield. 

 Is it a case of vocation, or is there a romance in 

 hiding ? I wonder how Evan will bear up under 

 a whole week's visitation. If she comes Saturday, 

 I shall know all about it ; and if she doesn't, I shall 

 forget that I wanted to know, which will do quite 

 as well. I wonder if she will be interested in the 

 garden. I hope so, for I must do some hard work 

 again next week. 



That reminds me that I have promised father 

 that I will speak to Martha about learning to make 



