Page:The Lark - E Nesbit, 1922.djvu/143

144 "Yes," said Lucilla, with emphasis.

". . . But I've always been told that it's useful sometimes, and I almost think that this is one of the times. Only I've had so little practice in being tactful—I don't know how to begin."

"You did pretty well with Uncle James. Don't be mock modest."

"Exactly. Uncle James. He may turn up again this morning—In fact I'm certain he will—and I have a sort of feeling that Uncle James's ideal young ladies would never have got themselves mixed up with young men in dark summerhouses and midnight tea-parties."

Lucilla pointed out that they needn't, after all, tell Uncle James.

"No, but Mr. Dix will. That fatal frankness of hisDo you know, I rather like him for that. Suppose we hurry and find spades and forks for him, and rakes and hoes; it will be easier to explain a gardener in the act of gardening than an unoccupied young man who has never been introduced to us."

"I wonder why Gravy always made out that it was so awful to talk to young men that weren't introduced to you? It doesn't feel awful, does it? It feels perfectly natural."

The gardens at Cedar Court looked lovelier than ever. The morning sunlight glittered on the wet leaves, and against a blue sky trimmed with rolling white clouds the trees stood up in their green-rounded perfection—all the leaves new and not yet a leaf fallen. The chestnut tree by the gate towered against the blue, its pointed white cones standing up like fat candles on a Christmas-tree for some fortunate and giant child. All the roads and paths were clear and bright.

"The world really does look like a little girl that means to be good now, please, and has had her face washed and her curls combed out," said Jane as they went up to the door of the garden house.

"With a green frock embroidered with daisies," said