Hartley opened the garden-gate and admitted him, and all three, passing down the garden, stood gravely inspecting the previous night's performance. It is to be recorded to Mr. Vyner's credit that he coughed disparagingly as he eyed it.
"Father says that they only want taking up and replanting," said Joan, softly, "and the footmarks caked over, and the mould cleared away from the path. Except for that your assistance was invaluable."
"I—I didn't quite say that," said Hartley, mildly.
"You ought to have, then," said Robert, severely. "I had no idea it was so bad. You'll have to give me some lessons and see whether I do better next time. Or perhaps Miss Hartley will; she seems to be all right, so far as the theory of the thing goes."
Hartley smiled uneasily, and to avoid replying, moved off a little way and became busy over a rosebush.
"Will you?" inquired Mr. Vyner, very softly. "I believe that I could learn better from you than from anybody; I should take more interest in the work. One wants sympathy from a teacher."
Miss Hartley shook her head. "You had better try a three months' course at Dale's Nurseries," she said, with a smile. "You would get more sympathy from them than from me."
"I would sooner learn from you," persisted Robert.
"I could teach you all I know in half an hour," said the girl.
Mr. Vyner drew a little nearer to her. "You overestimate my powers," he said, in a low voice. "You have no idea how dull I can be; I am sure it would take at least six months."