“Would you ever have believed it could look so lovely!” Eve asked.
“Yes. You can do most anything with land if you put enough time and patience into it, providing of course the soil’s fairly good. Next year, I hope it will look even better.”
“In the spring!” Eve said, her eyes shining a little. “Oh, I do hope I shall see it in the spring when the daffodils and tulips first come up!”
“And I’ll probably be grubbing for exams about that time!” Michael said. “But maybe I can get away for a week-end. I’d like to see how those bulbs come up.”
“And us and Circe?” Eve asked teasingly. “Shan’t you want to see us?”
“I hope the frost next winter doesn’t crack that new arm I made for her,” he answered, ignoring the question and looking across to where, above the clean bowl of the fountain, the restored statue stood, veiled today in white cheesecloth.
Miss Rose drove up just then with Mrs. Viner and we hurried out to greet our first guest. “My, how pretty everything looks!” she murmured as we escorted her to a seat. “Seems ’sif that golden glow there by the wall sort of lights up the whole place! And how that larkspur by the fountain has come on! What pride Emily Craven used to take in her larkspur.”
“Next year,” remarked Aunt Cal, coming up, “I shall have asters and mignonette in that bed too.”
“There comes a car up the hill,” I cried. “Maybe it’s Hattie May and Hamish!”
“No,” Michael shook his head. “It’s Captain Trout in Fishers Haven’s one and only taxicab.”