Mrs. Daggett told me yesterday about the flower-border here.
You--of course you don't remember the place at all; do you?"
He reddened slightly under her intent gaze.
"Oh, I remember something about it," he told her; "the garden was a
long time going down. There were flowers here a few years back; but
the grass and weeds got the better of them."
"And do you--remember the Boltons?" she persisted. "I was so
interested in what Mrs. Daggett told me about the family yesterday.
It seems strange to think no one has lived here since. And now that
I--it is to be my home, I can't help thinking about them."
"You should have built a new house," said Jim Dodge. "A new house
would have been better and cheaper, in the end."
He thrust his spade deep, a sign that he considered the conversation
at an end.
"Tell one of the other men to dig this," she objected. "I want to
make a list of the plants we need and get the order out."
"I can do that tonight, Miss Orr," he returned, going on with his
digging. "The men are busy in the orchards this morning."
"You want me to go away," she inferred swiftly.
He flung down his spade.
"It is certainly up to me to obey orders," he said. "Pardon me, if I
seem to have forgotten the fact. Shall we make the list now?"
Inwardly he was cursing himself for his stupidity. Perhaps he had
been mistaken the night before. His fancy had taken a swift leap in
the dark and landed--where? There was a sort of scornful honesty in
Jim Dodge's nature which despised all manner of shams and petty
deceits.
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