Guy was reluctant to let Birdwood go without bringing him to talk more directly of the family and less of the flowers. At the same time he felt it would be wiser not to rouse in the gardener any suspicion of how much he was interested in the Rectory; he was inclined to think he might resent it, and he wanted him as a friend.
"Who is working in your garden?" asked Birdwood, as he turned to go.
"Well, nobody just at present," said Guy, apologetically.
"All right," Birdwood announced. "I'll get hold of some one for you in less than half a pig's whisper."
"But not all the time," Guy explained, quickly. He was worried by the prospect of a gardener's wages coming out of his small income.
"Once a week he'll come in," said Birdwood.
Guy nodded.
"What's his name?"
"Graves he's called, but, being deaf and dumb, his name's not of much account."
"Deaf and dumb?" repeated Guy. "But how shall I explain what I want done?"