t.

"If you wish it," he answered. "I leave it entirely to you. Thank
you--and good morning."

Having advanced a few steps on his way to the cottage, he paused, and
reminded me of the tea-drinking: "Don't forget to-morrow evening, at
seven o'clock."

CHAPTER XI

WARNED AGAIN!

The breakfast hour had not yet arrived when I got home. I went into the
garden to refresh my eyes--a little weary of the solemn uniformity of
color in Fordwitch Wood--by looking at the flowers.

Reaching the terrace, in the first place, I heard below me a man's voice,
speaking in tones of angry authority, and using language which expressed
an intention of turning somebody out of the garden. I at once descended
the steps which led to the flower-beds. The man in authority proved to be
one of my gardeners; and the man threatened with instant expulsion was
the oddly-dressed servant of the friend whom I had just left.

The poor fellow's ugly face presented a picture of shame and contrition,
the moment I showed myself. He piteously entreated me to look over it,
and to forgive him.

"Wait a little," I said. "Let me see if I have anything to forgive." I
turned to the gardener. "What is your complaint of this man?"

"He's a trespasser on your grounds, sir. And, his impudence, to say the
least of it, is such as I never met with before."

"What harm has he done?"

"Harm, sir?"

"Yes--harm. Has he been picking the flowers?"

The gardener looked round him, longing to refer me to the necessary
evidence, and failing to discover it anywhere. The wretched trespasser
took heart of grace, and said a word in his own defence.

"Nobody ever knew me to misbehave myself in a gentleman's garden," he
said; "I own, sir, to having taken a peep at the flowers, over the wall."

"And they tempted you to look a little closer at them?"

"That's the truth, sir."

"So you are fond of flowers?"

"Yes, sir. I once failed in business as a nurseryman--but I don't blame
the flowers."

The delightful simplicity of this was lost on the gardener. I heard the
brute mutter to himself: "Gammon!" For once I asserted my authority over
my servant.

"Understand this," I said to him: "I don't confine the enjoyment of my
garden to myself and my friends. Any well-behaved persons are welcome to
come here and look at the flowers. Remember that. Now you may go."

Having issued these instructions, I next addressed myself to my friend in
the shabby shooting jacket; telling