He walked rapidly to the corner, stopped abruptly, turned back to the door and rang the bell.
"Anyhow, I'm not a coward!" he muttered.
The pretty Irish maid who opened the door smiled graciously and knowingly. It made him furious. She mistook his rage for blushes and giggled insinuatingly.
"Miss Betty's in the garden, sor; she says to come right out there——"
"What?" Ned gasped.
"Yiss-sor; she saw you come up to the door just now and told me to tell you."
Again the girl giggled and again he flushed with rage.
He found her in the garden, busy with her flowers. The border of tall jonquils were in full bloom, a gorgeous yellow flame leaping from both sides of the narrow walkway which circled the high brick wall covered with a mass of honeysuckle. She held a huge pair of pruning shears, clipping the honeysuckle away from the budding violet beds.
She lifted her laughing brown eyes to his.
"Do help me!" she cried. "This honeysuckle vine is going to cover the whole garden and smother the house itself, I'm afraid."