'They ain't weeds, however, Miss Esther; that's all I can tell you.'
'What are weeds, then?'
'I don't know, mum,' said Christopher grimly. 'They're plants that has no manners.'
'But some good plants have no manners,' said Esther, amused. 'I know I've heard you say, they ran over everything, and wouldn't stay in their places. You said it of moss pink, and lily of the valley. Don't you remember?'
'Yes mum, I've cause to remember; by the same token I've been trimming the box. That thing grows whenever my back is turned!'
'But it isn't a weed?'
'No mum! No mum! The Buxus is a very distinguished family indeed, and holds a high rank, it does.'
'Then I don't see what is a weed, Christopher.'