not have liked it.

"Now what sort of person can that be," I asked myself,
shaking my head, as I contemplated the changes before me,
"who could put a rockery among vegetables and currant bushes?
A rockery, of all things in the gardening world,
needs consummate tact in its treatment. It is easier to make
mistakes in forming a rockery than in any other garden scheme.
Either it is a great success, or it is great failure; either it
is very charming, or it is very absurd. There is no state
between the sublime and the ridiculous possible in a rockery."
I stood shaking my head disapprovingly at the rockery before me,
lost in these reflections, when a sudden quick pattering of feet
coming along in a great hurry made me turn round with a start,
just in time to receive the shock of a body tumbling out
of the mist and knocking violently against me.

It was a little girl of about twelve years old.

"Hullo!" said the little girl in excellent English;
and then we stared at each other in astonishment.

"I thought you were Miss Robinson," said the little girl,
offering no apology for having nearly knocked me down.
"Who are you?"

"Miss Robinson? Miss Robinson?" I repeated, my eyes fixed on
the little girl's face, and a host of memories stirring within me.
"Why, didn't she marry a missionary, and go out to some place
where they ate him?"