“Well, but did you not see her afterwards? and did she send no message?”
“Only two or three words; the day afther to-morrow, at two o'clock, come to look for labor, and she will contrive to see you.”
This was enough, and Reilly did not allow his ambassadress to leave him without substantial marks of his bounty also.
When the old squire went to his study, he desired the gardener to be sent for, and when that individual entered, he found his master in a towering passion.
“What is the reason, Malcomson,” said he, “that the garden is in such a shameful state? I declare to God it is scandalous.”
“Ou, your honor,” replied Malcomson, who was a Scotchman, “e'en because you will not allow me an under gerdener. No one man could manage your gerden, and it canna be managed without some clever chiel, what understands the sceence.”
“The what?”
“The sceence, your honor.”
“Why, confound you, sir, what science is necessary in gardening?”
“I tell your honor that the management of a gerden requires baith skeel and knowledge, and feelosophy.”