You should have seen her when she limped down the stairs for supper! Margot had brought her one of the Major's canes and tied some faded cherry ribbons on its gold handle. Piqueur was just lighting the candles when the two descended. Grandfather sat by the fire, his head drooping. It had been a hard day, this day he had spent with old memories. He had grieved over Octavia, he had yearned for Louisa, he had pondered mightily concerning Josepha who had been so angry with him when he had married her daughter. But he'd thought not at all of little Madame Folly in whose house he sat and brooded, not until he looked up and saw her great-great-granddaughter standing in the doorway, dressed in a cherry-colored gown, all gay with tarnished silver ribbons and yellowed lace. Because she didn't know any other way to dress her hair, she had tucked it in its usual knot at the nape of her lovely neck, but on top the neat parting was perched a narrow gold circlet with a tiny cherry-colored plume and she held her head audaciously high as she swept him a mighty curtsy. "Louisa's things aren't pretty at all," she babbled breathlessly, "and Josepha's I can't wear--but oh, Grandy, aren't Prudence's just sweet!" "They look like Imprudence's," he bantered as he rose. She brought forth other treasures from under her curved arm. "And look! Little chess men and a little chess board. Get a table! I'll checkmate you before even dinner is ready! Margot has to go brown the chickens--hurry Margot, I'm hungry--" She had come into her own. She was like a young queen come to her throne. From that very moment she ruled them all,--Grandy, Margot, Piqueur and Bele as though they were her slaves. She adored every inch of her domain, she could scarcely wait for the ankle to heal so that she could rove about the overgrown paths in the woods and tumbled walks and weed-covered lawns. She could not get up early enough in the morning to do all her eager young heart longed to do. Rebuilding the garden was a sacred trust; hadn't Maman told her to do it? All day long, her serious face shaded by the old garden hat, her slender hands encased in the gauntleted gloves, she prowled about the terraces or rummaged in the tool house, usually with the beloved THEORY AND PRACTISE OF GARDENING under her arm. Sometimes she spread it open on a dilapidated bench so that she could read its solemn dissertations. The very title page appalled one with the gravity of the task. In flourishing type it boasted of its august contents-- Wherein Is fully handled all that relates to the fine gardens commonly called pleasure gardens as Parterres, Groves, Bowling Greens. Containing Divers plans and general dispositions. Methods of planting, and raising in little time, all the plants requisite in a garden. Done from the French original in Paris anno domini 1709