ple see them for fear they should learn your methods?" he said, at
last.

Mr. Hartley, coming away from the door, almost stuttered in his haste to
disclaim such ungenerous sentiments. "I am always glad to show them," he
said, emphatically, "and to give any information I can."

"I should like to see them some time," murmured Robert.

The other threw caution to the winds. "Any time," he said, heartily.

Mr. Vyner thanked him warmly, and, having got what he wanted, placed
no further obstacles in the way of his withdrawal. He bought a book
entitled "Roses and How to Grow Them" the same afternoon and the next
evening called to compare his knowledge with Mr. Hartley's.

Mr. Hartley was out; Miss Hartley was out; but at Rosa's invitation he
went in to await their return. At her further suggestion--due to a habit
she had of keeping her ears open and a conversation between her master
and Captain Trimblett on the previous evening--he went into the garden
to see the flowers.

"The other one's there," said Rosa, simply, as she showed him the way.

Mr. Vyner started, but a glance at Rosa satisfied him that there was all
to lose and nothing to gain by demanding an explanation which she would
be only too ready to furnish. With an air of cold dignity he strolled
down the garden.

A young man squatting in a painful attitude at the edge of a
flower-bed paused with his trowel in the air and eyed him with mingled
consternation and disapproval. After allowing nearly a week to elapse
since his last visit, Mr. Saunders, having mustered up sufficient
courage to come round for another lesson in horticulture, had discovered
to his dismay that both Mr. Hartley and his daughter had engagements
elsewhere. That his evening should not be given over to disappointment
entirely, however, the former had set him a long and arduous task before
taking his departure.

"Don't let me interrupt you," said Mr. Vyner, politely, as the other
rose and straightened himself. "What are you doing--besides decapitating
worms?"

"Putting in these plants," said Mr. Saunders, resentfully.

Mr. Vyner eyed them with the eye of a connoisseur, and turning one over
with his stick shook his head disparagingly. For some time he amused
himself by walking up and down the garden inspecting the roses, and
then, lighting a cigarette, threw himself at full length on to a garden
bench that stood near Mr. Saunders and watched him at work.

"Fascinating pursuit," he remarked