"Why—yes—it's pretty early for anything but peas, but you can try, of course. What are they? Sweet alyssum and pansy?"
"Yes—and I did get a few sweet peas too," I hesitated. "I thought Henry hadn't much to do yet, and perhaps he could make a trench—you know it needs a trench."
"Yes, I know," said Jonathan. I think he smiled. "Let's see your seeds."
"They're at the house. Come over to the south porch, where it's warm, and we'll plan about them."
I opened the bundle and laid out the little packets with their gay pictures indicating what the seeds within might be expected to do. "Sweet alyssum and pansies," I said, "and here are the sweet peas."
Jonathan took them—"'Dorothy Eckford, Lady Grisel Hamilton, Gladys Unwin, Early Dawn, White Spencer,' By George! you mean to keep Henry busy! Here's ten ounces of peas!"
"They were so much cheaper by the ounce," I murmured.
"And—hold up! Did you know they gave you some asters? These aren't sweet peas."
"No—I know—but I thought—you see, sweet peas are over by August, and asters go on all through October—don't you remember what lovely ones Christabel had?"
"Hm! But isn't the world full of asters, anyway, in September and October, without your planting any more?" He grinned a little. "I thought that was your idea—you said Christabel grubbed so."