to do that."

He eyed me closely. "By all the gods! a new doublet! She is skillful
with her needle, then?"

"She may be," I answered. "Having never seen her with one, I am
no judge. The doublet was made by the tailor at Flowerdieu
Hundred."

By this we had reached the level sward at the top of the bank.
"Roses!" he exclaimed, - "a long row of them new planted! An
arbor, too, and a seat beneath the big walnut! Since when hast thou
turned gardner, Ralph?"

"It's Diccon's doing. He is anxious to please his mistress."

"Who neither sews, nor cooks, nor plants! What does she do?"

"She pulls the roses," I said. "Come in."

When we had entered the house he stared about him; then cried
out, "Acrasia's bower! Oh, thou sometime Guyon!" and began to
laugh.

It was late afternoon, and the slant sunshine streaming in at door
and window striped wall and floor with gold. Floor and wall were
no longer logs gnarled and stained: upon the one lay a carpet of
delicate ferns and aromatic leaves, and glossy vines,
purple-berried, tapestried the other. Flowers - purple and red and
yellow - were everywhere. As we entered, a figure started up from