"I am not complaining of the trowel, Theophilus," observed Mrs. Clay, "though when it comes to that I don't see why a trowel and a bed of roses is any more philosophic than a ladle and a kettle of pickles." "Perhaps not, Tina, perhaps not," chuckled the doctor, "but yours is a practical mind, and there's nothing, I've always said, like a practical mind for seeing things crooked. It suits a crooked world, I suppose, and that's why it usually manages to get on so well in it." "And I'd like to know how you see things, Theophilus," sniffed Mrs. Clay, whose temper was rising. "I see them as they are, Tina, which isn't in the very least as they appear," rejoined the good man, unruffled. He bent forward, made a lunge with his trowel at a solitary blade of grass growing in the bed of bleeding hearts, and after uprooting it, returned with a tranquil face to his garden chair. But Mrs. Clay, having, as he had said, a practical mind, merely sniffed while she wiped off the small green table with a red-bordered napkin and scattered the crumbs of sponge-cake to the greedy slate-coloured pigeons. "If I judged you by what you appear, Theophilus," she retorted, crushingly, "I should have judged you for a fool on the day you were born." This sally, which was delivered with spirit, afforded the doctor an evident relish. "If you knew your Juvenal, my dear," he responded, with perfect good humour, "you would remember: _Fronti nulla fides_." Rising from his seat, he stooped fondly over the bed of bleeding hearts, and gathering a few blossoms, presented them to Sally, with a courtly bow. "A favourite flower of mine. My poor mother was always very partial to it," he remarked. CHAPTER XXXII I COME TO THE SURFACE It was a bright June day, I remember, when I came to the surface again, and saw clear sky for the first time for more than two years. I had entered the office a little late, and the General had greeted me with an outstretched hand in which I felt the grip of the bones through the flabby flesh. "Look here, Ben, have you kept control of the West Virginia and Wyanoke?" he enquired, and I saw the pupils of his eyes contract to fine points of steel, as they did when he meant business. "Nobody wanted it, General. I still own control--or rather I still practically own the road." "Well, take my advice and don't sell to the first man that asks you, even if he comes from the South Midland. I've just heard that they've been tapping those undeveloped coal fields at Wyanoke, and I shouldn't be surprised if they turned out, after all, to be the richest in West Virginia." It was then that I saw clear sky. "I'll hold on, General, as long as you say," I replied. "Meanwhile, I'll run out there and have a look."