“Perhaps so. I miss my work, but at the same time, I haven't sense enough to do it.”
“Poor child, you're tired—too tired to rest.”
“Yes, I am tired,” answered Ruth, the tears of nervous weakness coming into her eyes.
“Come out into the garden.”
Miss Ainslie drew a fleecy shawl over her shoulders and led her guest outdoors. Though she kept pace with the world in many other ways, it was an old-fashioned garden, with a sun-dial and an arbour, and little paths, nicely kept, that led to the flower beds and circled around them. There were no flowers as yet, except in a bed of wild violets under a bay window, but tiny sprigs of green were everywhere eloquent with promise, and the lilacs were budded.
“That's a snowball bush over there,” said Miss Ainslie, “and all that corner of the garden will be full of roses in June. They're old-fashioned roses, that I expect you wouldn't care for-blush and cinnamon and sweet briar—but I love them all. That long row is half peonies and half bleeding-hearts, and I have a bed of columbines under a window on the other side of the house. The mignonette and forget-me-nots have a place to themselves, for I think they belong together—sweetness and memory.
“There's going to be lady-slippers over there,” Miss Ainslie went on, “and sweet william. The porch is always covered with morning-glories—I think they're beautiful and in that large bed I've planted poppies, snap-dragon, and marigolds. This round one is full of larkspur and bachelor's buttons. I have phlox and petunias, too—did you ever see a petunia seed?”
Ruth shook her head.
“It's the tiniest thing, smaller than a grain of sand. When I plant them, I always wonder how those great, feathery petunias are coming out of those little, baby seeds, but they come. Over there are things that won't blossom till late—asters, tiger-lilies and prince's feather. It's going to be a beautiful garden, deary. Down by the gate are my sweet herbs and simples—marjoram, sweet thyme, rosemary, and lavender. I love the lavender, don't you?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Ruth, “but I've never seen it growing.”