Gardens where the paths cross, and gigantic clumps of Delphinium, 
by the Sea Spireas, Campanulas, and old Scotch Roses, riot in the roomy 
borders. Turning down one of the side paths, one finds no 
formal limit to this walled garden, but a grassy slope with 
big trees descends to a level lawn below, On the left, the 
ground rises again, gay with flower-beds, till the boundary 
wall is reached, and on the right the lawn leads to a deep glen 
where a burn gurgles its way downwards between steep 
banks clothed with ferns and every imaginable treasure that 
will grow in such a position. It is difficult, in sight of so 
many natural advantages, to repress envious desires for the 
same chances! 
Gardens near the sea have another and quite different 
charm. Some, as at Wemyss Castle, have, as well as the 
walled garden which lies inland in a more sheltered position, 
a flower garden lying close to the shore, where clumps of 
Hydrangea paniculata and Hyacinthus candicans of Tritomas, 
Fuchsias, and Michaelmas Daisies, or more brilliant groups of 
Tritomas and Gladiolas, look magnificent on a woody slope, 
flashing through the dark tree stems against a grey sea. 
The autumnal aspect of Scotch gardens is much richer 
than in the South, but it must be remembered that 
they stand a greater risk than we do of early frosts, and 
that many a plant may be suddenly blackened in a night. 
Returning to England at the beginning of October, our own 
garden seemed to me in comparison a wilderness. August and 
September had been both hot and dry, and everything was 
scorched and exhausted. Remaining in my mind were 
pictures of the blaze of colour at Drummond Castle—bed after 
bed filled with Begonias, Marigolds, Lobelias, Pentstemons, and 
58 
