His Reverence drew out pencil and paper, and after making several very shaky rounds to represent the two beds, he began to fill in with names as suggested to him by Jim and the Young Man.
"Let us start with the biggest geraniums in the centre, a group of six we will say, as they are not very big any of them. Now then, a row next of those yellow daisies, that will fill up a good bit and look bright, too. Then we might have those stocks, all colours are they? Do famously. And then the little snapdragons, what do you call them?—anti—anti—what? snapdragon will do for me. You say they are too small! Oh, but they will grow. Red, then yellow, then white. Why, see, Mary, the round is nearly full. Then a row of the smallest geraniums, don't you think, and end up with an edging of blue lobelia. That would be fine, eh?"
Jim saw my face and burst into laughter. I was in no laughing mood.
"Good heavens, sir! Imagine such a higgledy-piggledy assembly as that—all sizes—all colours—all blooming anyhow!"
"Not at all, not at all. Now, Young Man, what do you say? Look here—" And with the warmth of an inventor his Reverence read over his list and grew more in love with his colour scheme than ever.
"Yes," said the Young Man, at intervals, "yes, that fills in grandly;" and then he caught my eye, a flash of indignation, so he began to hesitate and hedge. "Only, you see, your Reverence, that for flowers, that is, for bedding out, it seems you need—you have to think—" and he looked at me but got no assistance. "Perhaps there might be too many colours, mightn't there?" he wound up feebly.
"Too many colours! Why, my dear fellow, it isn't for a funeral! Do you want all the flowers to wear black coats like you and me?"
"No, no, sir, only, you see in one bed—"
"Bless the man, of course they are in one bed! Why, where is the harm in variety? Just look here—" and we went through the scheme again. "Now, come; if you don't like this, what can you suggest better, eh?"