"It was a novelty then," he explained; "some novelties are worth a great deal. There's one I know of now I could do some good business with if I could get hold of it. But I can't; the old fool that's got it won't sell it for any price, and he can't half work it himself. It's a blue daffodil--Narcissus Triandrus Azureum he calls it; or rather, to give it its full title, Narcissus Triandrus Azureum Vrouw Van Heigen; so called, I believe, in honour of his wife, or his mother." Julia wondered if the Van Heigen who owned the precious flower was the old Dutchman of her acquaintance. "Is he a bulb grower?" she asked, though without giving any reason for her question. "Yes," Cross answered, "a Dutch bulb grower; that's why he won't make the profit he might; he comes of generations of growers, and they venerate their bulbs. He has cranky notions of how things ought to be done, and no other way will do for him." "How did he get a blue daffodil? Do you think it is real? It seems very unusual." "It is unusual; that's where the value comes in; but it's real fast enough, though I don't believe he grew the first, as he says, in his own garden. It's my opinion that one of his collectors sent him the first bulb; he has collectors all over the world, you know, looking for new things." "What is he going to do with it?" Julia asked. "He is multiplying it at present; at first he had only one, now, of course, he has a few more; when he has got enough he will hybridise. You don't know what that is. Cross-breed with it; use the blue with the old yellow daffodil as parents to new varieties. That's ticklish work; growers can't afford to do it till they have a fair number of the new sort; but, of course, they occasionally get something good that way." Julia listened, much interested, though, to tell the truth, the money value of the thing fascinated her more than anything else. "Will he never sell any of his blue bulbs?" she asked. "Oh, yes, in time," Cross answered; "but not while they are worth anything much to the growers." "What are they worth? I mean, what would it be worth if there was only one?" "I don't know; I dare say I could get L400 for the single bulb." "But if there were more they would not be worth so much? If there were five, what would they be worth?" "Pretty well as much, very likely L300 for one bulb. Van Heigen would give a written guarantee with it not to sell another bulb to another grower." "But he could keep the others himself?" Julia asked. "That would be eating his cake and having it too. Tell me," she said, feeling she was imitating the Patriarch when he was pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah, "if there were ten bulbs, what could you get for one."