I sawed off the upper four feet carefully, and stowed the remainder back in the loft. Then I made a square base of planking, a temporary one till I could build a brick foundation, washed off the dust, and took my pedestal around to the lawn. With a ball of twine tied to the centre of the south room door I ran a line directly out to the rose trellis, and midway between the trellis and where the edge of my pergola was to be I placed the pillar. Then I took out my knife, and thrust the blade lightly in at an angle, to simulate the dial marker, and turned to call Miss Goodwin. But she was already standing in the door. "Oh!" she cried, running lightly down the plank and across the ground, "a sundial already, and a real pedestal! Come away from it a little, and see how it seems to focus all the sunlight." We stood off near the house, and looked at the white column in mid-lawn. It did indeed seem to draw in the sunlight to this level spot before the dwelling, even though it rose from the brown earth instead of rich greensward, and even though beyond it was but the unsightly, half-finished, naked trellis. Even as we watched, a bird came swooping across the lawn, alighted on my knife handle, and began to carol. "Oh, the darling!" cried Miss Goodwin. "He understands!" I was very well content. I had unexpectedly found a pedestal, and was experiencing for the first time the real sensation of garden warmth and intimacy and focussed light which a sundial, rightly placed, can bring. I did not speak, and presently beside me I heard a voice saying, "But I forgot that I am angry at you." "Why?" I asked. "Because you had no right to leave me to pick out the paint for your dining-room," said she. "Why not?" said I. "You picked out the name of my house and the style of the rose trellis." "That was different," she replied. "I don't see why." "Then you are extremely stupid," she answered. "Doubtless," said I. "But that doesn't help me any to understand, you know." "Come," she replied, "and see if the paint suits you. Then I must go home and write some letters." The paint and calcimine tint suited me, of course. They were a warm, golden cream and a very delicate buff, which made the rooms seem lighter. I thanked her as heartily as I could, and watched her depart up the road, pausing only long enough to press to her nose the first bud on the great lilac tree at the corner. The place seemed curiously deserted after she had gone. I went out into the vegetable area to see if Mike and Joe were getting on all right, and to watch them planting, that I might learn how it was done. "Aren't we pretty late with all these seeds?" I asked.