"I think your arrangement of iris on the edge is rather formal," I was saying, "and it would be rather more decorous, if not decorative, for you to sit upon the bench, and----" when we heard a motor rumble over the bridge at the brook, and the engine stop by our side door. [Illustration:] Chapter XX CALLERS "Heavens!" cried Stella, leaping to her feet, "do you suppose it's callers?" She looked ruefully at her paint-stained fingers, at her old, soiled khaki garden skirt which stopped at least six inches from the ground, and then at my get-up, which consisted of a very dirty soft-collared shirt, no necktie, khaki trousers that beggared description, and soil-crusted boots. Some passengers from the motor were unquestionably coming up our side path--they were coming around the corner by the lilac bush to the front door--they were around the lilac bush--they were upon us! We looked at them--at a large, ample female in a silk gown anything but ample, at a young woman elaborately dressed, at a smallish man with white hair, white moustache, and ruddy complexion, clad in a juvenile Norfolk jacket and white flannels. "They are coming to call!" whispered Stella. "The Lord help us! John, I'm scared!" We advanced to meet them, and as I glanced at my wife, and then at the ample female, I was curiously struck with their resemblance to a couple of strange dogs approaching each other warily. I fully expected to see the stout lady sniff; she had that kind of a nose. "How do you do," said she. "I'm Mrs. Eckstrom. I presume this is Mr. and Mrs. Upton?" Stella nodded. "We are your neighbours," she continued, with an air which said, "You are very fortunate to have us for neighbours." "We live in the first place toward the village. This is Mr. Eckstrom, and my daughter, Miss Julia." "We can hardly offer our hands," said Stella. "Will you forgive us? You see, we are making a garden, and it's rather messy work." "You like to work in the garden yourself, I see," said Mrs. Eckstrom. "I, too, enjoy it. I frequently pick rose bugs. I pick them before breakfast, very early, while they are still sleepy. I find it is the only way to save my tea roses." "The early gardener catches the rose bug--I'll remember that," Stella laughed. "Perhaps you would care to see the beginnings of our little garden?" We moved down through the orchard and surveyed the pool. I suppose it did look bare and desolate to the outsider, who did not see it, as we did, with the eye of faith--the bare soil green with grass, the lip ringed with iris blades, the shrubbery bordered with a mass of blooms. At any rate, the Eckstroms betrayed no enthusiasm. [Illustration: We are your neighbours ... you are very fortunate to have us for neighbours] "Mr. Upton spaded all that lawn up himself, and we made the bench together," cried Stella. "Well, well, you _must_ like to work," said Mr. Eckstrom. "It's so much simpler to sic a few men on the job. Besides, they can usually do it better."