"Yes, dear, and of course he _has_ experience, but we must judge by results--judge by results. Stands to reason, as I say, and you had so few blooms. What can you expect if they never get any attention? Poor things. We all like attention. I do, I'm sure. And if they're matted, _can_ they bloom? Now try it one year! You're mistress. I don't approve of being overruled. Consideration, but not concession. Hear all that other people have to say, and take your own way afterwards, as my dear mother used to say. Jean, you are laughing! Naughty girl! What is so funny about bulbs?" "My gardener says that well-established bulbs bloom better than those which are continually removed," said Mrs Rendall firmly. "I intend to follow his advice." "Certainly, dear. Why not, if you wish it? The garden's your own. Hope he appreciates his place. People always say gardeners are despotic; my dear father would have no interference. Discharged three men in succession for giving advice, and when the fourth came for orders the first morning--I remember it so well; I was a girl at the time, about fourteen--`d'ye see that row of gooseberry bushes?' he said. `Dig 'em all up, and plant 'em back again head downward.' `Very good, sir,' said the man. At lunch time there they were--poor things! roots sticking up in the air--you never saw such a sight--obliged to laugh, you know, obliged to laugh, though daren't show it. `You're the man for me,' said my father. `There's a shilling for you; go and get a drink.' My mother was an abstainer, but he would never join. A pity, but men, my dear, men, can't be coerced--!" "Piers," said Mrs Rendall coldly, "return thanks." In the face of such an interruption Miggles was perforce reduced to silence, and the luncheon party broke up. Coffee was served in the drawing-room, and Vanna mentally resolved to plead fatigue as an excuse for spending the next two hours with the old ladies; but she was not allowed to carry her plan into execution. "I want to take you the round of our little estate, Miss Strangeways," Piers announced when the coffee-cups had been put aside. "Jean knows it of old, but we always seize the opportunity of showing it to strangers. I won't ask you to come with us, Miggles, for the paths are distinctly rough, and you will be more comfortable sitting quietly on the verandah with mother. What sort of heels are you wearing this afternoon, Jean?" "Flat, ugly, English! I have too much sense of fitness to sport `Louis quinze' in country roads; but why do English bootmakers set their faces so sternly against insteps? I'm never comfortable out of a French shoe," said Jean with a sigh. She slid her hand through Vanna's arm with an affectionate pressure which was intended to show her agreement in Piers's invitation, and the three young people walked across the lawn, leaving the old ladies seated in their low cane chairs.