“Gee! You didn’t save all that money from your wages, did you?”
She smiled. “No. I make one big—bluff some people call it; I call it trust in God. I pay the leetle I have ant give a mortgage for the rest.” She chuckled softly, ending with a sigh, the echo of the sorrow she had combated with all her forceful, cheery nature. “Mrs. Walker—she thought I’d never pay; but I have.”
“What? Not for all of it?”
“Yes. Since you came I got mine deed. Next thing iss to buy some new furniture that iss not all the time fighting mit the colors.”
Sydney looked at her with deeper respect. He knew the property was valuable. “I can’t see how—other nurserymen make money, but not so fast.”
She stepped nearer and laid her hand impressively on his. “Seedney, there iss a secret—love.”
He looked his wonder, his mystification.
“Listen. I tell you. Plant, tree, insect, animal—all are God’s. His life iss in all. He gifes all breath the same as man; that iss, life. Then all are brothers; nicht wahr? I think so; ant so I do. I love mine leetle plants same as if they could speak. I watch them close, every leetle thing I see. I talks mit them; for that they better grow. That iss how I can make new plants—what you say in English? create new colors, new roses. Those I send to Germany; for them mine friends pay much money.”
“Friends?”