"Why don't you have the men stretch you a canvas?" asked Bob. "Well," said the girl, stopping short, "I have considered it. I no more than you like unexpected twigs in my dough. But you see I do like shadows and sunlight and upper air and breezes in my food. And you can't have one without the other. Did you get all the weeds out?" "Yes," said Bob. "Look here; you ought not to have to do such work as that." "Do you think it will wear down my fragile strength?" she asked, looking at him good-humouredly. "Is it too much exercise for me?" "No--" hesitated Bob, "but--" "Why, bless you, I like to help the babies to grow big and green," said she. "One can't have the theatre or bridge up here; do leave us some of the simple pleasures." "Why did you want me to finish for you then?" demanded Bob shrewdly. She laughed. "Young man," said she, "I could give you at least ten reasons," with which enigmatic remark she whipped her apron around her hand and whisked open the oven door, where were displayed rows of beautifully browned biscuits. "Nevertheless----" began Bob. "Nevertheless," she took him up, raising her face, slightly flushed by the heat, "all the men-folks are busy, and this one woman-folk is not harmed a bit by playing at being a farmer lassie." "One of the rangers could do it all in a couple of hours." "The rangers are in the employ of the United States Government, and this garden is mine," she stated evenly. "How could I take a Government employee to work on my property?" "But surely Mr. Thorne--" "Ashley, bless his dear old heart, takes beans for granted, as something that happens on well-regulated tables." She walked to the edge of the kitchen floor and looked up through the trees. "He ought to be along soon now. I hope so; my biscuits are just on the brown." She turned to Bob, her eyes dancing: "Now comes the exciting moment of the day, the great gamble! Will he come alone, or will he bring a half-dozen with him? I am always ready for the half-dozen, and as a consequence we live in a grand, ingenious debauch of warmed-ups and next-days. You don't know what good practice it is; nor what fun! I've often thought I could teach those cooks of Marc Antony's something--you remember, don't you, they used to keep six dinners going all at different stages of preparation because they never knew at what hour His High-and-mightiness might choose to dine. Or perhaps you don't know? Football men don't have to study, do they?" "What makes you think I'm a football man?" grinned Bob; "generally bovine expression?" "Not know the great Bob Orde!" cried the girl. "Why, not one of us but had your picture, generally in a nice gilt shrine, but _always_ with violets before it." But on this ground Bob was sure. "You have been reading a ten-cent magazine," he admonished her gravely. "It is unwise to take your knowledge of the customs in girls' colleges from such sources."