“This is a little friend of Rosalind’s who has come up to help. She is fond of this sort of work,” she said; then, before any of the strangers had time to acknowledge the introduction, she added hastily, “And now I am sure you must all be tired after your journey, and will be glad to go to your rooms and rest. It is quite wicked of me to keep you standing. Let me take you upstairs at once!”
They sailed away with the same rustle of garments, the same babel of high-toned voices, and Peggy stood alone in the middle of the deserted room. No one had asked her to rest, or suggested that she might be tired; she had been overlooked and forgotten in the presence of the distinguished visitor. She was only a little girl who was “fond” of this sort of work, and, it might be supposed, was only too thankful to be allowed to help. The house sank into silence. She waited for half an hour longer in the hope that someone would remember her presence, and then, tired, hungry, and burning with repressed anger, crept upstairs to her own little room and fell asleep upon the couch.
(To be continued.)
[OUR LILY GARDEN.]
PRACTICAL AIDS TO THE CULTURE OF LILIES.
By CHARLES PETERS.
The first group of lilies, “Cardiocrinum,” contains but two lilies. These two plants strongly resemble each other but are both totally different from any other species.
Many years ago, long before we ever dreamed of growing lilies ourselves, we first made acquaintance with the magnificent Lilium Giganteum.
We had been walking all day in the south of Hertfordshire, and as evening was approaching we turned to retrace our steps. But the district was new to us, and we found that we had wandered many miles from our path. We looked about us for someone of whom to ask our way, but the road was deserted save for ourselves. We trudged onwards for about a mile, and seeing a cottage a short way ahead, we determined to ask our way of one of its inhabitants.