He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. But after puttering over the stalled engine for a few minutes, he told Mrs. Langley he was afraid he could not find the trouble. “Suppose I take you to your destination and send a garageman for your car,” he suggested. “I should be most grateful! I was on my way home when the car suddenly went dead as I rounded the bend. But won’t it be too much trouble to drop me off?” “Not at all,” insisted Mr. Piff, escorting the club woman to his own car. Mrs. Langley knew Miss Gordon and Miss Mohr very well and was pleased to see them again. During the drive to her nearby estate, she chatted gaily of her plans for the coming garden show. “You’re exactly the person I’ve wanted to see,” Mr. Piff told her. “I have a plan which I know will interest you--” From that point on, he talked and talked, outlining his scheme for the big commercial flower show. At first Mrs. Langley did not seem very much impressed. However, before the ride ended, she had begun to ask many questions. “Do come in,” she invited the group when finally the car reached her home. “You must see my gardens.” “Another time perhaps,” said Miss Gordon. “Mr. Piff was in a hurry to keep an appointment--” “That can wait,” he cut in. “Nothing shall deprive me of the pleasure of viewing Mrs. Langley’s beautiful garden.” The hour had grown late. Miss Mohr and Miss Gordon felt they should be returning to their homes. However, Mr. Piff had forgotten his haste entirely. To the annoyance of the two women, he insisted upon remaining. The grounds were well-kept and very lovely. Tiny box hedges edged the formal flower beds. There were fountains, a gazing globe and a sun dial. “How would you children like to pick yourselves a tussie-mussie bouquet?” suggested Mrs. Langley. “What is that?” asked Vevi, who had never heard of such a thing. The garden club president explained that a tussie-mussie bouquet really was a tiny nosegay, or flowers arranged for their scents. Each little bouquet was set off with a small paper lace cap. “You may select any scents you wish,” Mrs. Langley said, leading the girls on to another old-fashioned garden. “Lavender--heliotrope--mignonette--rosemary or lemon verbena.” “Say, that tussie-mussie idea is good! Has great commercial possibilities!” exclaimed Mr. Piff. “We could set up a booth and have the Brownies sell them at the flower show!” “The Brownies are not interested,” Miss Gordon said firmly. She had grown increasingly annoyed by the promoter’s tactics. “Really, we should be going--” Mr. Piff ignored the hint. While Vevi and Connie gathered flowers for their tiny bouquets, he kept talking to Mrs. Langley about his wonderful plans for the tulip festival. “You have one of the finest gardens I ever have seen,” he flattered the club woman. “It should be thrown open to the public--for a fee, of course.” “I do open my gardens each year, Mr. Piff,” she told him. “However, I have never charged admission.”