Queenie never shrank from anything, but plunged her white hands into the dirt up to her wrists, while Phil took off his coat and worked patiently at her side, transplanting a rose-bush or geranium to one place in the morning, and in the evening to another, if so the fancy took his mistress. She could not always tell where she wanted a thing until she studied the effect of certain positions, and then, if she did not like it, if it did not harmonize with the picture she was forming, it must be moved, she said. And so the moving and changing went on, and people marveled to see how rapidly what had first seemed chaos and confusion began to assume proportions until the grounds bade fair to become more beautiful and artistic than any place which had ever been seen in the county. What had been done before Queenie’s arrival was for the most part unchanged, but the remainder of the grounds were entirely overturned. The plateau and summer-house, on which Queenie had set her heart, were made, and the terraces, and the new walks, and the pasture land, west of the house, was robbed of its greensward for turf to cover the terraces and plateau, which were watered twice each day until the well and cisterns gave out, and then the heavens, as if in sympathy with the work, poured out plentiful showers, and so, not withstanding that it was summer, the turf, and the shrubs, and the vines, and flowers were kept green and fresh, and scarcely stopped their growing. Everything went beautifully Queenie said, as she issued her orders, and, busy as a bee, worked from morning till night, with Phil always in attendance, while even Mr. Beresford at last caught the fever, and went himself into the business of planting and transplanting, and working in the dirt. _The Hetherton gardeners_ the people called the two young men, Phil being the head and Mr. Beresford the _sub_; but little did they care for the merry-making, so long as that bright, sparkling girl worked with them, and then at night rewarded them with a bouquet, which she fastened to their button-holes, standing up on tiptoe to do it, and looking up at them with eyes which nearly drove them crazy. Nor was Hetherton Place the only spot where Queenie was busy. A few days after Phil went to the sea-shore there had come to her a letter from Margery, who wrote: