ularly trying to one of delicate
sensibilities.
I sank down suddenly in gasps of unregenerate laughter, for the
barrel-head was a tight fit, and as Jimmie endeavoured to climb out,
the barrel climbed too, giving him a strange hoop-skirt effect, which
went but sadly with the derby hat.
Jimmie grinned sheepishly as the Angel extricated him, and placed a
strong board on the barrel for him to stand upon in safety.
Then Jimmie decided to saw a dead limb off, and leave the pruning to
Sir Wemyss. So he took the saw and went valiantly to work, but it was
tiresome, so he leaned his weight against the limb and industriously
sawed his prop off, which sent him flying almost into Lady Mary's lap.
He saved himself by his nimbleness, but this time Jimmie was
mad--uncompromisingly mad.
He said little, however, but seated himself in the cooling and tranquil
vicinity of his Madonna-faced wife, while watching the Angel and Sir
Wemyss reduce the refractory tree to symmetry and healthfulness without
effort and without disaster.
His failure and particularly Bee's and my ghoulish laughter had nettled
him, however, and he was determined to recover himself as well as
regain his place in our esteem.
All day he wandered around, seeking a suitable opportunity, all the
while watching me craftily to see if I suspected his design. But I
gave no sign, which plainly lightened the burden he was carrying.
Lady Mary trained my crimson rambler rose over the dining-room window
and cut flowers for all the vases. This was ordinarily my work, and I
loved it, but it gave her pleasure, and above all it gave her a home
pleasure which she had missed. I asked her if she would train the
roses every day while she was with us, taking the work off my hands.
She coloured softly as she gladly consented, and went prettily and
importantly to work.
Artie Beg, having just come home from a prolonged honeymoon, was
frequently obliged to go into town for a few hours' conference with his
partner, and Cary, from being one of the most energetic of guests, had
developed a tendency to talk of nothing in the world except her
husband, and, when no one would listen to her, of sitting apart with
her hands folded in her lap and a dreamy look in her eyes as if only
her body were present at my house-party. Her mind was plainly in Wall
Street.
I may not be believed, but Christianity and the love of God were
working in my heart when the next afternoon I asked Jimmie
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