Facial contortions, in sympathy with the epithets he was mentally heaping upon the head of Bassett, disturbed for a moment the serenity of Mr. Vyner’s countenance. A rapid glance at Miss Hartley helped him to regain his composure. “I don’t know why the boy should have been so officious,” he said, slowly; “I didn’t want to see you. I certainly passed the house on my way. Oh, yes, and then I thought of going back—I did go a little way back—then I altered my mind again. I suppose I must have passed three times.” “I was afraid there was something wrong,” said Hartley. “I am very glad it is all right. I’ll give that lad a talking to. He knocked us all up and said that you had been walking up and down for twenty-three minutes.” The generous colour in Mr. Vyner’s cheeks was suddenly reflected in Miss Hartley’s. Their eyes met, and, feeling exceedingly foolish, he resolved to put a bold face on the matter. “Bassett is unendurable,” he said, with a faint laugh, “and I suspect his watch. Still, I must admit that I did look out for you, because I thought if you were stirring I should like to come in and see what sort of a mess I made last night. Was it very bad?” “N-no,” said Hartley; “no; it perhaps requires a little attention. Half an hour or so will put it right.” “I should like to see my handiwork by daylight,” said Robert. Hartley opened the garden-gate and admitted him, and all three, passing down the garden, stood gravely inspecting the previous night’s performance. It is to be recorded to Mr. Vyner’s credit that he coughed disparagingly as he eyed it. “Father says that they only want taking up and replanting,” said Joan, softly, “and the footmarks raked over, and the mould cleared away from the path. Except for that your assistance was invaluable.” “I—I didn’t quite say that,” said Hartley, mildly. “You ought to have, then,” said Robert, severely. “I had no idea it was so bad. You’ll have to give me some lessons and see whether I do better next time. Or perhaps Miss Hartley will; she seems to be all right, so far as the theory of the thing goes.” Hartley smiled uneasily, and to avoid replying, moved off a little way and became busy over a rosebush. “Will you?” inquired Mr. Vyner, very softly. “I believe that I could learn better from you than from anybody; I should take more interest in the work. One wants sympathy from a teacher.” Miss Hartley shook her head. “You had better try a three months’ course at Dale’s Nurseries,” she said, with a smile. “You would get more sympathy from them than from me.” “I would sooner learn from you,” persisted Robert. “I could teach you all I know in half an hour,” said the girl. Mr. Vyner drew a little nearer to her. “You overestimate my powers,” he said, in a low voice. “You have no idea how dull I can be; I am sure it would take at least six months.” “That settles it, then,” said Joan. “I shouldn’t like a dull pupil.”