Courtier gravely answered
“If the gods give me that dream——”
From the garden door Barbara turned her head, smiled, and passed through.
Lady Casterley, in the company of little Ann, who had perceived that it was novel to be in the garden at this hour, had been scrutinizing some newly founded colonies of a flower with which she was not familiar. On seeing her granddaughter approach, she said at once:
“What is this thing?”
“Nemesia.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It's rather the fashion, Granny.”
“Nemesia?” repeated Lady Casterley. “What has Nemesis to do with flowers? I have no patience with gardeners, and these idiotic names. Where is your hat? I like that duck's egg colour in your frock. There's a button undone.” And reaching up her little spidery hand, wonderfully steady considering its age, she buttoned the top button but one of Barbara's bodice.
“You look very blooming, my dear,” she said. “How far is it to this woman's cottage? We'll go there now.”