“Oh, these are out of your garden,” said Ruby; “how do you manage to make them grow so well and so late in the year?”
“The part of the garden where they grow is not mine,” said Adam quietly; “it belongs to a friend who tends it herself. I could not succeed as she does.”
“Is—is she a mermaid?” asked Ruby, her eyes growing very round.
“No, my dear. Mermaids’ flowers, if they have any, would scarcely be like these, I think.”
“You speak as if there are no such things as mermaids; do you not think there are?” said Mavis.
Old Adam shook his head.
“I have never seen one; but I would never take upon myself to say there is nothing but what I’ve seen.”
“Tell us about the friend who plants these in your garden,” said Ruby, touching the forget-me-nots. “Could it have been she who put some on the terrace at the castle for us?”
“Maybe,” said the old man.
“Is she a lady, or—or a fairy, or what is she, if she’s not a mermaid?” asked Ruby.