"I--beg--I--" "Oh, Sir Mark!" exclaimed the lady, angrily; and then, catching her daughter's eye, she went on in a trembling, fluttering way; "I never thought--I couldn't see--I really--Oh, dear me; how do you do, Sir Mark? I--I--I am glad to see you back." He held out his hand, smiling in her face the while, and in her confusion Dame Beckley placed therein a little trowel, making him start. Then, starting herself, she grew more confused, and snatched the trowel away, dropped it, and nearly struck her head against the visitor, as he stooped quickly to pick up the fallen tool. "I beg your pardon, Sir Mark," she stammered, as she finally succeeded in getting trowel and garden-gloves comfortably settled in the basket, a frown from her daughter hastening her pace. "Sir Mark was coming with me to see you in the simple-garden, mother," said Mistress Anne, calmly enough. "Will you show him some of your choicest plants?" "Oh, yes, child, if I--that is--bless me, I hardly know what I am saying. This way, Sir Mark, this way," and turning abruptly she led the little party down the garden. Sir Mark pressed Mistress Anne's hand, and gave her a meaning look and smile, but he was disconcerted to find his companion's face as innocent and guileless-looking as her limpid eyes. "Confound it all," he muttered; "I must not trifle with her, or I shall break the poor girl's heart." "These are my simples, Sir Mark," said the dame, pointing to the various old-fashioned herbs growing beneath the shelter of a sunny wall; lavender, rosemary, rue, and balm; peppermint, spearmint, and lemon-thyme; pennyroyal, basil, and marigold; wall-hyssop; and sweet marjoram, borage, and dill, with a score more,--which she hastened to point out to hide her confusion. "That is agrimony, Sir Mark, for fevers, and that is the new long snake-rooted glycorice from Spain, a fine thing for colds and burning throats. These are the echeverias for making up when there are scalds and burns, and applying cool to the place." "And what is that great long-leaved plant, madame?" said Sir Mark, showing an interest in what he saw. "The Indian weed--tobacco, sir, and this is a strange new gourd from the same land; and this is a root that grows into curious floury lumps or balls, when underground. But maybe you have heard of them before we simple people in the country. It is the batata." "Yes; I have heard of that, and tasted it too," said Sir Mark. "Would you like to see my vines, Sir Mark?" said the lady, eagerly. "They are in the shelter of the old walls here, and I ripen my grapes, and make my wine, that you shall taste when we go in." "I thank you, madam, and shall be right glad."