"A practical jester evidently. Is Mr Irons a local character?" "He said that he knew the ground and the conditions round about here better than anyone else in Groat's Heath," she replied. "Modesty is not among Mr Irons's handicaps. He said that he----How curious!" "What is, Mrs Bellmark?" "I never connected the two men before, but he said that he had been gardener at Fountain Court for seven years." "Another family retainer who is evidently attached to the soil." "At all events they have not prospered equally, for while Mr Johns seems able to take a nice house, poor Irons is willing to work for half-a-crown a day, and I am told that all the other men charge four shillings." They had paced the boundaries of the kitchen garden, and as there was nothing more to be shown Elsie Bellmark led the way back to the drawing-room. Parkinson was still engrossed in his book, the only change being that his back was now turned towards the high paling of clinker-built oak that separated the two gardens. "I will speak to my man," said Carrados, turning aside. "He hurried down and is looking through the fence, sir," reported the watcher. "That will do then. You can return to the car." "I wonder if you would allow me to send you a small hawthorn-tree?" inquired Carrados among his felicitations over the teacups five minutes later. "I think it ought to be in every garden." "Thank you--but is it worth while?" replied Mrs Bellmark, with a touch of restraint. As far as mere words went she had been willing to ignore the menace of the future, but in the circumstances the offer seemed singularly inept and she began to suspect that outside his peculiar gifts the wonderful Mr Carrados might be a little bit obtuse after all. "Yes; I think it is," he replied, with quiet assurance. "In spite of----?" "I am not forgetting that unless your husband is prepared on Monday next to invest one thousand pounds you contemplate leaving here." "Then I do not understand it, Mr Carrados." "And I am unable to explain as yet. But I brought you a note from Louis Carlyle, Mrs Bellmark. You only glanced at it. Will you do me the favour of reading me the last paragraph?" She picked up the letter from the table where it lay and complied with cheerful good-humour. "There is some suggestion that you want me to accede to," she guessed cunningly when she had read the last few words. "There are some three suggestions which I hope you will accede to," he replied. "In the first place I want you to write to Mr Johns next door--let him get the letter to-night--inquiring whether he is still disposed to take this house." "I had thought of doing that shortly." "Then that is all right. Besides, he will ultimately decline." "Oh," she exclaimed--it would be difficult to say whether with relief or disappointment--"do you think so? Then why----"