"The rose vine!" her father reminded her.

"You'll never get that back on the roof!" Alix looked up to assure
him discouragingly. "I told you, when you were pruning it," she
added vivaciously, "that you were cutting too deep. No--you knew
it all! Now the first wind brings it down all over the place, and
you get exactly what you deserve!"

Her tone was less harsh than her words; indeed, it was the tone he
loved from her, that of a devoted but long-suffering mother. She
came to Cherry's hassock, and dropped on it, and rested her untidy
head against his knee.

"Anne aided and abetted me!" said the doctor meekly.

"To the extent of handing you your shears!" Anne said promptly.

"No, but really you know, Dad, you were a pig-headed little
creature to do that!" Alix said musically. "You might just as well
cut it down at the roots and plant another double banksia."

"I rather thought that Lloyd might have some idea of a tackle--or
a derrick or something--" submitted her father vaguely.

"Well, if anybody can--" Anne conceded, laughing. "What did he say
about coming over, Cherry?"

But Cherry had not been listening, and the conversation was
reviewed for her benefit. She remarked, between two rending yawns,