nesian
monarchs.

Of all her activities that from which she drew the purest joy was her
gardening, for in this fortunate place, where sun and soil and balmy
air all conspire to produce a paradise for flowers, "her Dutch blood
began to come out," as she said, and she threw herself with ardour
into the business of digging and pruning and planting. The little
cottage was soon curtained with vines, and the whole place glowed with
the many-coloured hues of gorgeous roses. There, too, the tawny golden
bells of the tiger lily, her own particular flower, hung from their
tall stalks. This was the first of the many wonderful gardens that
were made to bloom under her skilful tending in various parts of the
world.

The charming domestic picture of her life in this period can be given
in no better way than by quoting the words of her daughter:

"At that time our fashionable neighbors gave 'parties' for their
children. One night a fire broke out in a house where I had gone to a
party. My mother was at home, sitting at her work, when she suddenly
cried 'Something is the matter with Bel!' and rushing out, ran across
ploughed fields, her slippers falling off, leaving her to run in
stockings all the way. It was not until she was half-way there that
she saw the smoke and realized the meaning of her intuition. When she
found that I was all right and had been sent home she fainted and had
to be carried home herself. She made my clothes herself, and I can
remember to this day how pretty they were. I was very dark and of
course ashamed of it, but she told me it was very nice to be different
from other people, and dressed me in crisp yellow linen or pale blue,
which made me look still darker, on the principle that Sarah Bernhardt
followed in exaggerating her thinness when it was the fashion to have
a rounded form. My mother told me to consider my dark skin a beauty,
for she believed that if children had a good opinion of themselves
they would never be self-conscious.

"All the other girls in my school had given parties and I begged to be
allowed to give one too. Our little house was not very suitable for
the purpose, but my mother put her wits to work. She fitted up the
stable with a stage and seats, and persuaded a neighbor who played the
cornet to act as 'band.' Then she taught a small group of us to act
'Villikens and his Dinah,' which she read aloud behind the scenes, and
'Bluebeard,' made into a little play. My paternal grandmother,