But if she thought to dispose of the matter in that way she soon found she was mistaken; there were apparently laws governing bulb growing which were as inviolable as any governing hereditary titles. The man who bloomed the bulb was the man who had produced the novelty--if novelty it was; he could no more make over his rights to another than a duke could his coronet. In vain Julia protested that it was by the merest chance that Joost had hit on this particular sort to give her, that it was only an accident which had prevented him from blooming it himself. He said that did not matter at all, and when she failed to be convinced, added that possibly, had he kept the bulb, the result might not have proved the same; her soil and treatment were doubtless both different. Julia laughed at the idea, saying she knew nothing about soil and treatment. But she made no impression on Joost and apparently did not alter the case; the laws of the bulb growers were not only like those of the "Medes and Persians which alter not," but also refused to be bent or evaded even by a Polkington. "It is yours," Joost said, as he took a last look at the flower before he rose from his knees; "the great honour is yours, and I am glad of it." There was something in his tone which reminded Julia of that talk they had had in the little enclosed place on the last day she was at the bulb farm. She hastily submitted so as to avoid the too personal. "What am I to do with the honour?" she asked. "I do not know, that is one reason why it is absurd for me to have it." "You must name your flower," he told her; "and then you must exhibit it. Fortunately you are in time for the show in London." "But I can't go to London," Julia said; "it is out of the question for me to leave home even if I could afford the fare, which I cannot." Joost answered there was no need; he could arrange everything for her. "I can take the daffodil to London with me," he said. "It must be lifted--you have a flower pot, then it must be tied with care, and it will travel quite safely." "But," Julia objected; "if it is exhibited with my name, and you say my name as the grower must appear, your father will hear of it and then he will know that you gave me a bulb--it cannot be exhibited. I do not care about a certificate of merit or whatever one gets." "It must be exhibited," Joost said; "as to my father, he knows already, I have told him; that does not stand in the way." To this Julia had nothing to say; perhaps in her heart she was a little ashamed because she had suspected him of the half honesty of only telling what was necessary when it was necessary, that she herself was likely to have practised in his case. "Now you must call your flower a name," he said, "as I called mine Vrouw Van Heigen." "I will call it after you," Julia said. But Joost would not have that. "That will not do; the blue daffodil is already a Van Heigen; there cannot be another, it will make confusion."