I jumped up eagerly and climbed through the window.
"My dear man," I said, shaking him warmly by the hand, "this is indeed a day. Crocuses! And in the front gar—on the South Lawn! Let us go and gaze at them."
There they were—eleven of them. Six golden ones, four white, and a little mauve chap.
"This is a triumph for you, James. It's wonderful. Has anything like this ever happened to you before?"
"There'll be some more up to-morrow, I won't say as not."
"Those really are growing, are they? You haven't been pushing them in from the top? They were actually born on the estate?"
"There'll be a fine one in the back bed soon," said James proudly.
"In the back—my dear James! In the spare bed on the North-east terrace, I suppose you mean? And what have we done in the Dutch Ornamental Garden?"
"If I has to look after ornamental gardens and South aspics and all, I ought to have my salary raised," said James, still harping on his one grievance.
"By all means raise some celery," I said coldly. "Take the spade and raise some for lunch. I shall be only too delighted."