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Rh whether those hybrid tea roses we planted this spring, which are blooming so well over there, would really prove hardy and survive the winter.”

“Did I ever tell you that the Kelmscourt place, Lord Kelmscourt’s splendid old house, time of George I, has an acre of nothing but roses? Oh, me, it’s wonderful! You really know nothing of gardens over here.” Mrs. Garden dropped her head and sighed wistfully, not an unmistakable sigh, but a delicately done one, conveying a regret that was repressed, struggling to the day.

Instantly Florimel pounced on her, while Mary and Jane exchanged a look of terror.

“Now you’re sorry!” cried Florimel, her voice tragic. “We don’t blame you, but now you’re sorry!” She stalked away, misery in her whole attitude. Mrs. Garden threw up her head with a laugh, her eyes dancing with mischief, swung on the toes of her dainty little slippers like a dancer, and ran after Florimel.

“You little gypsy explosive baby!” she cried, catching her youngest girl around the shoulders and turning her to see her mother’s laughing face. “I thought that would tease you, silly little zanies! Why, girls, can’t you see how