I've planted poppies, snap-dragon, and marigolds. This round one
is full of larkspur and bachelor's buttons. I have phlox and
petunias, too--did you ever see a petunia seed?"

Ruth shook her head.

"It's the tiniest thing, smaller than a grain of sand. When I
plant them, I always wonder how those great, feathery petunias
are coming out of those little, baby seeds, but they come. Over
there are things that won't blossom till late--asters,
tiger-lilies and prince's feather. It's going to be a beautiful
garden, deary. Down by the gate are my sweet herbs and
simples--marjoram, sweet thyme, rosemary, and lavender. I love
the lavender, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," replied Ruth, "but I've never seen it growing."

"It's a little bush, with lavender flowers that yield honey, and
it's all sweet--flowers, leaves, and all. I expect you'll laugh
at me, but I've planted sunflowers and four-o'clocks and
foxglove."

"I won't laugh---I think it's lovely. What do you like best, Miss
Ainslie?"

"I love them all," she said, with a smile on her lips and her
deep, unfathomable eyes fixed upon Ruth, "but I think the
lavender comes first. It's so sweet, and then it has
associations--"