"Why, zor, I be gardener now, too: yaäs I be, to save the wages. And he's gone clean mazed about that garden--yaäs, I think. Would yü believe this, Maäster Harry, that he killed every one o' the blessed strawberries last year with a lot o' wrack from the bache, because he said it wüd be as good for them as for the 'sparagus?" "Well, but the old chap finds amusement in pottering about the garden--" said Master Harry. "The old fule!" repeated Tobias, in an under tone. "And the theory is sound about the seaweed and the strawberries; just as his old notion of getting a green rose by pouring sulphate of copper in at the roots." "Yaäs, that were another pretty thing, Maäster Harry, and he had the tin labels all printed out in French, and he waited and waited, and there bain't a fairly güde rose left in the garden. And his violet glass for the cucumbers: he burned en up to once, although 'twere fine to hear'n talk about the sunlight and the rays and such nonsenses. He be a strange mahn, zor, and a dahmned close'n with his penny-pieces, Christian and all as he calls his-sen. There's Miss Juliott, zor, she's go-in' to get married, I suppose; and when she goes no one 'll dare spake to 'n. Be yü going to stop long this time, Maäster Harry?" "Not at the Hollies, Tobias. I shall go down to the Queen's to-morrow: I've got rooms there." "So much the better--so much the better," said the frank but inhospitable retainer; and presently the jogtrot old animal between the shafts was pulled up in front of a certain square old-fashioned building of gray stone which was prettily surrounded with trees. They had arrived at the Rev. Mr. Penaluna's house, and there was a young lady standing in the light of the hall, she having opened the door very softly as she heard the carriage drive up. "So here you are, Harry; and you'll stay with us the whole fortnight, won't you? Come in to the dining-room--I have some supper ready for you. Papa's gone to bed, and he desired me to give you his excuses, and he hopes you'll make yourself quite at home, as you always do, Harry." He did make himself quite at home, for, having kissed his cousin and flung his topcoat down in the hall, he went into the dining-room and took possession of an easy-chair. "Sha'n't have any supper, Jue, thank you. You won't mind my lighting a cigar--somebody's been smoking here already. And what's the least poisonous claret you've got?" "Well, I declare!" she said, but she got him the wine all the same, and watched him light his cigar: then she took the easy-chair opposite. "Tell us about your young man, Jue," he said. "Girls always like to talk about that." "Do they?" she said. "Not to boys." "I shall be twenty-one in a fortnight. I am thinking of getting married." "So I hear," she remarked quietly. Now he had been talking nonsense at random, mostly intent on getting his cigar well lit, but this little observation rather startled him. "What have you heard?" he said abruptly.