bunch of gay tulips and an old silver pitcher, from which she presently
pours water into the Harlequin Delft vase on _PETER GRIMM'S_ desk. She
peeps into the office, retreating, with a smile on her lips,
as _JAMES_ appears._

CATHERINE. Did I disturb you, James?

JAMES. [_On the threshold._] No indeed.

CATHERINE. Do you like your new work?

JAMES. Anything to get back to the gardens, Catherine. I've always done
outside work and I prefer it; but I would shovel dirt rather than work for
any one else.

CATHERINE. [_Amused._] James!

JAMES. It's true. When the train reached the Junction, and a boy presented
the passengers with the usual flower and the "compliments of Peter
Grimm"--it took me back to the time when that was my job; and when I saw
the old sign, "Grimm's Botanic Gardens and Nurseries"--I wanted to jump
off the train and run through the grounds. It seemed as though every tulip
called "hello" to me.

CATHERINE. Too bad you left college! You had only one more year.

JAMES. Poor father! He's very much disappointed. Father has worked in the
dirt in overalls--a gardener--all his life; and, of course, he
over-estimates an education. He's far more intelligent than most of our
college professors.