"He—he didn't say anything."
"He laughed! I heard him," said Jim, "and he is splitting his sides telling the Young Man all about it."
"He isn't! Jim, go quick, interrupt them. I won't let them talk of m—my garden."
Jim is really a nice boy; he swaggered off with his hands in his pockets, whistling, and joined the two men. I knew he would give the conversation the turn I wished.
I began to cool down. It was easy to say I would "resign" the garden, but could I? Putting pride aside, was not my interest in all those young promising plants for the spring too deep for me now to desert them? Had I not rooted, amongst other things, too much of myself in my garden for me now lightly to withdraw?
While I pondered I strolled down the garden, and coming up the other side ran into the group of three viewing the holly hedge from the back.
"It is one of the best holly hedges I have ever seen," his Reverence was saying. "Cut it down! Why, it would be sheer madness."
Then the Young Man, without noticing me, began,
"All the same, you do want an opening somewhere. It is quite true that fine hedge shuts you in very much."
"I like being shut in," said his Reverence; "but I might consider your idea of an opening here, an archway in the middle, particularly as the hedge is already rather thin in one place, only 'Mary, Mary, quite contrairy.'"