“I am justly proud of them,” smiled Mrs. Tompkins. “I was careful to plant them where they would be protected from the east wind. They love a deep fertile soil and will thrive well in a sunny sheltered garden. You can grow them from seed, but you will wait a long time before enjoying the flowers. If you transplant a well-rooted plant, you will have flowers the following season.”
“I don’t suppose we can plant any roots so late as this?” queried Norma, anxiously.
“No, it would merely kill the plant and the root would dry up in the ground.”
The iris, the phloxes, the pinks, lavender, portulacae and many other old-fashioned flowers were discussed, and for each one, Mrs. Tompkins had a valuable lesson to give Norma. As they went along the paths, Norma carrying a flat-bottomed basket, the hostess would dig up a small plant which had sprung up from a seed beside the older plant, and place it carefully in the basket. Thus by the time the three had covered the length of the paths in this section of the garden, Norma had almost a full basket of young slips and roots to take home for her own gardens. Then they walked over to a garden well enclosed with hedges, both low and high.
It brought forth a simultaneous exclamation of admiration, as Mrs. James and Norma saw that this large garden contained all kinds of roses, from the single American Beauty standing upright and queenly, to the tiny bush prolific with pink blooms. The hedges, too, were well worth admiring and seeing.
On the side nearest the other flower-beds, the low hedge was comprised of hyssop, rosemary and lavender. On either side were hedges of roses, thickly grown and kept well-trimmed, but back of the riot of color and perfume of the rose garden proper, stood dark green privet and back of that a row of dwarf cedars. This effectually screened the barns, but what really covered the grey, unpainted buildings were the luxuriant vines and creepers which were trained up over the roof, and hung in festoons from gables and dormer windows set in the roof.
Standing, as the visitors now did, beside the low hedge of flowers, and gazing across the roses to the taller hedge of cedar and then up at the tangle of green vines, the effect was lovely. And so thought the woman who had accomplished this effect.
After Norma had inhaled the perfume and sighed in an ecstasy of pleasure at the beautiful roses glowing before her, Mrs. Tompkins retraced her steps toward the house, as the twilight was falling and the dew began to gather on the foliage of the plants.
Norma carried the basket as if it were filled with frail creations of mist, but she asked questions, nevertheless.
“Why do you have table oilcloth spread out over the basket, Mrs. Tompkins?”