This he termed putting his borders into ship-shape.
The flower-beds which skirted the lawn, a pretty grass plot containing about an acre of ground, surrounded by tall poplar trees, were regularly sown with a succession of annuals, all for the time being of one sort and colour. For several weeks, innumerable quantities of double crimson stocks flaunted before your eyes, so densely packed, that scarcely a shade of green relieved the brilliant monotony. These were succeeded by larkspurs, and lastly by poppies, that reared their tall, gorgeous heads above the low, white railing, and looked defiance on all beholders.
Year after year presented the same spectacle, and pounds of stocks, larkspur and poppy seeds, were annually saved by the eccentric old man, to renew his floral show.
Tom W——, who was enchanted with the Captain’s oddities, had nick-named the marine cottage Larkspur Lodge.
CHAPTER IV.
A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE.
The news of Lieutenant Lyndsay’s intended emigration spread like wild-fire through the village, and for several days formed the theme of conversation. The timid shrugged their shoulders, and drew closer to their own cosy fire-sides, and preferred staying at home to tempting the dangers of a long sea-voyage. The prudent said, there was a possibility of success; but it was better to take care of the little you had, than run the risk of losing it while seeking for more.—The worldly sneered, and criticised, and turned the golden anticipations of the hopeful and the benevolent into ridicule, prophesying disappointment, ruin, and a speedy return. Lyndsay listened to all their remarks, endeavoured to combat unreasonable objections, and remove pre-conceived prejudices; but as it was all labour thrown away, he determined to abide by the resolution he had formed, and commenced making preparations accordingly.
Flora, who, like many of her sex, was more guided by her feelings than her reason, was terribly annoyed by the impertinent interference of others, in what she peculiarly considered, her own affairs. Day after day she was tormented by visitors, who came to condole with her on the shocking prospects before her. Some of these were kind, well-meaning people, who really thought it a dreadful thing, to be forced, at the caprice of a husband, to leave home, and all its kindred joys, for a rude uncultivated wilderness like Canada. To such Flora listened with patience; for she believed their fears on her account were genuine—their sympathy sincere.
There was only one person in the whole town whose comments she dreaded, and whose pretended concern she looked upon as a real bore—this was Mrs. Ready, the wife of a wealthy merchant, who was apt to consider herself the great lady of the place.