‘Arbor vitæ,’ said he, ‘means tree of life.’
‘Then we’ll have that,’ said Caroline, ‘especially as it means “unchanging friendship,” too.’ She thought of Rupert. ‘I hope Rupert’s back before she appears,’ she added; ‘that would make him believe in magic, wouldn’t it?’
The Uncle, for the first time, was introduced to the Language Of, and he seemed much struck by the literary style of that remarkable work.
‘“Never did the florographist select from cunning Nature’s wonderous field a more appropriate interpreter of man’s innermost passions than when he chose the arbor vitæ to formulate the significance, ‘Live for me.’” I was not aware that human beings could write like that,’ he said, ‘and I thought you said arbor vitæ meant something quite different.’
‘They often do,’ said Caroline. ‘We used to think the book didn’t know its own mind, but we think now it put in new meanings when it found them out. It’s rather confusing at first. But “live for me” is fine. It’s just what we want the picture to do, isn’t it? What else?’
‘I leave it to you,’ said the Uncle, laying down the book. ‘Your author’s style is too attractive. I could waste all the rest of the daylight on him. Farewell. If I can be of any assistance in hanging the garlands, let me know.’
They thanked him warmly and hesitated. Then Charles said, ‘It was us that she was to come alive to, so I expect it had better be us to hang the garlands.’
‘We,’ said the Uncle gently, ‘not us.’
‘But I meant us,’ said Charles. ‘Not we with you in it.’
‘I was trying to correct your grammar, not your statement,’ said the Uncle; ‘but never mind. Good-bye.’