you would never imagine she could know, unless she
was a witch. This was _the knowing bit_ in that letter:--"_Your dear
father's note this morning did me more good than bottles of tonic. It
is due to you, my trustworthy little daughter, to tell you of the bit
that pleased me most. He says--'The children seem to me to be behaving
unusually well, and I must say, I believe the credit belongs to Mary.
She seems to have a genius for keeping them amused, which luckily
means keeping them out of mischief.' Now, good Little Mother, I wonder
how you yourself are being entertained? I hope the others are not
presuming on your unselfishness? Anyhow, I send you a book for your
own amusement when they leave you a bit of peace and quiet. I have
long been fond of it in French, and I have found an English
translation with nice little pictures, and send it to you. I know you
will enjoy it, because you are so fond of flowers._"

Oh, how glad I was that I had let Adela be the Weeding Woman with a
good grace, and could open my book parcel with a clear conscience!

I put the old book away and buried myself in the new one.

I never had a nicer. It was called "A Tour Round my Garden," and some
of the little stones in it--like the Tulip Rebecca, and the
Discomfited Florists--were very amusing indeed; and some were sad and
pretty, like the Yellow Roses; and there were delicious bits, like the
Enriched Woodman and the Connoisseur Deceived; but there was no
"stuff" in it at all.

Some chapters were duller than others, and at last I got into a very
dull one, about the vine, and it had a good deal of Greek in it, and
we have not begun Greek.

But after the Greek, and the part about Bacchus and Anacreon (I did
not care about _them_; they were not in the least like the Discomfited
Florists, or the Enriched Woodman!) there came this, and I liked it
the best of all:--

"At the extremity of my garden the vine extends in long porticos,
through the arcades of which may be seen trees of all sorts, and
foliage of all colors. There is an _azerolier_ (a small medlar) which
is covered in autumn with little apples, producing the richest effect.
I have given away several grafts of this; far from deriving pleasure
from the privation of others, I do my utmost to spread and render
common and vulgar all the trees and plants that I prefer; it is as if
I multiplied the pleasure and the chances of beholding them of all
who, like me, really love flowers for their s