Accordingly Richard accompanied the visitor about the nursery, and told him the names of the plants, putting aside such as the stranger ordered or selected. "I don't know how it is," said the latter, pointing with his stick to a row of flourishing rhododendrons, "but you and all my friends grow these to perfection, whilst there is a fatality with mine; they won't flower, or if they do, they throw out sickly bloom, and the plants continually die and have to be removed." "It depends on the soil, sir. What is your soil?" "I don't know. Most things do well. We are on chalk." "That is it, sir. The rhododendron has an aversion to lime in any form. A man will not thrive on hay, nor a horse on mutton chops. Each plant has its own proper soil in which it thrives. Give it other soil and it languishes and dies. Excuse me, sir, for a moment." Richard ran to a boy who was lifting and removing a young thuja. "Look here," he said. "My boy, when you take a baby from one room to another you do not carry it by the hair of its little head, do you? No, you put your arm under it and bear it easily--thus. You are transplanting that tree in altogether a wrong manner. You hold it--suspend it by the delicate twigs and leafage, and leave the root unsupported, dropping the soil and exposing every fibre. Treat a plant with as much consideration and tenderness as a baby, and it will thank you." At that moment Mr. Kewe appeared, and Richard with a bow withdrew, but not before he had heard the nurseryman address the visitor as "My lord." When Richard had gone out of earshot, the visitor, who was Lord St. Ledger, said to Mr. Kewe, "I have come here to ask you to help me. I have lost my good old head gardener. Poor fellow, he has had brain fever, and is quite beyond managing the gardens again. His head and memory are affected, and his nervous irritability make him unable to carry on smoothly with the others. I have pensioned him, and now I want another, and that speedily. I have no under gardener fit to advance into his room." "You want an elderly man, my lord?" "I want a good man, and an honest one, and one who understands the business. You know my gardens, hot-houses, and conservatories." "If he had only been a little older----" began the nurseryman. "Oh, I am not particular as to age." "I was merely considering, my lord--that man who has been round the gardens with you----" "Would suit me exactly," interrupted Lord St. Ledger. "I took a fancy to him at once. He loves plants. He looks full of intelligence and honesty." "Honesty! Honest as the day. And as for intelligence, there is no lack of that. Experience may be wanting." "I'll take him," said Lord St. Ledger. "I took stock of the fellow whilst he was going round with me." "I am sorry to part with him," said the nurseryman, "and yet I should be more sorry to stand in the way of Richard's advancement."