"

"To grow."

"What do you want it to grow for?"

"My garden is too public. I wish to be protected from outsiders."

"Would it be the same thing if I were to nail up this window? That
would be so much quicker. It will be ten years before your hedge
is high enough to keep me from seeing you. And even then, you
know, I could move up-stairs. But I am so sorry to be an outsider."

"I merely remarked that I was planting a hedge."

When Georgiana spoke again her voice was lowered: "Would you open
a gateway for me into your garden, to be always mine, so that I
might go out and come in, and never another human soul enter it?"

Now Jacob had often begged me to cut _him_ a private gateway on
that side of the garden, so that only _he_ might come in and go
out; and I had refused, since I did not wish him to get to me so
easily with his complaints. Besides, a gate once opened, who may
not use it? and I was indignant that Georgiana should lightly ask
anything at my hands; therefore I looked quickly and sternly up at
her and said, "I will not."

Afterwards the thought rushed over me that she had not spoken of
any gateway through my garden fence, but of another one, mystical,
hidden, infinitely more sacred. For her voice descended almost in
a whisper, and her face, as she bent down towards me, had on it I
know not what angelic expression. She seemed floating to me from
heaven.

May 17th. To-day I put a little private gate through my fence
under Georgiana's window, as a sign to her. Balaam's beast that
I am! Yes, seven times more than the inspired ass.

As I passed to-day, I noticed Georgiana looking down at the gate
that I made yesterday. She held a flower to her nose and eyes,
but behind the leaves I detected that she was laughing.

"Good-morning!" she called to me. "What did you cut that ugly hole
in your fence for?"

"That's not an ugly hole. That's a little private gateway."

"But what's the little private gateway _for_?"

"Oh, well! You don't understand these matters. I'll tell your
mother."

"My mother is too old. She no longer stoops to such things. Tell
_me_!

"Impossible!"

"I'm dying to know!"

"What will you give me?"

"Anything--this flower!"

"But what would the flower stand for in that case? A little pri--"

"Nothing. Take it!" and she dropped it lightly on my face and
disappeared. As I stood twirling it ecstatically under my nose,
and wondering how I could get her t