The gardener chattered fast in his own tongue. He explained that during the absence in England of the master and the missie there had been strange kind of weather. The weather had poisoned the flowers and made them turn colour and lose their scent. This preposterous statement was too much for Mrs. Hulver's dignified patience. She abandoned her high-class English and let herself go in the native tongue.
How dared he tell her such a tale! Whoever heard of the weather changing the colour of flowers? Was it the rain or the sun? It was neither; the mischief was done in the night, stoutly maintained the gardener. Then, as she kept an incredulous silence, he asked querulously, if it was any stranger than that carriages should run along the road without horses, and messages be sent without messengers. Were the English to be the only wonder-workers? Could not the gods of India——? She cut him short. While he chattered she had framed her line of conduct.
"There is no wonder about the business except that the master keeps such a budmash on the premises. If the plants had been properly watered and tended in the master's absence, the weather would not have affected them. It is only neglected plants that are affected by bad weather." She paused to allow her grey eye to rest upon him; and he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other under her scrutiny. "Do you hear, gardener? They must be nursed back to their proper condition. There will be a fine of one rupee for each pot. As soon as they recover, the fine will be returned; but until the twelve roses bear proper double pink flowers with full, good smell the money will be stopped out of your pay. Each pay-day before giving the wages I shall come and look at the roses."
The fat finger was withdrawn. Mrs. Hulver turned slowly round and sailed back into the bungalow.
"What were you scolding the gardener for?" asked Eola, after she left the breakfast-room and sought the house-keeper to consult with her on the day's menu.
"I had to talk to him, miss. He has been misbehaving himself while I have been away. Five of those France roses that you are so fond of are missing, and China plants put in their places."
"My beautiful La France roses gone!" cried Eola, with regret. "I suppose he let them die by neglecting to water and has put others in the pots thinking we should not discover the loss."
"Not he! the spalpeen! He has changed them—sold the good ones and stolen some common plants to fill up with."
"What did he say for himself when you accused him of it?"
"That's just what I didn't do miss; I took care not to make any accusation. As William—that was my second—used to say, 'Think all you like but keep your thoughts to yourself if you want to get even with a bad man.' I kept my thoughts to myself; and when the gardener had the impudence to tell me that the weather had turned the roses from pink to red, I said that if he didn't nurse them back to their right colour you would fine him. They will all return," she continued confidently; "You will have your dozen favourites in a few weeks' time."