"Yes!"--a pause,--"are you answered fully now?"
"Fully.--Let me have the twig."
He released my hand. I looked at the bit of birch closely,
scrutinizingly. I found what I was hoping to find: a tiny sign of
life, a wee nub of green; something ready, unseared, for another year.
"I think I 'll take it home," I said, as if interested only in botany;
"I find there is life left in it--a tiny bud that may be a shoot in
time. I 'll see what I can do with it; the experiment is worth trying."
He smiled for answer. He understood. The beast of the Past was again
in its lair. I regained my usual good spirits and proposed that we see
Mrs. Boucher's flower gardens before we turned homewards.
"I like to hear you use that word--it is a new one for me."
"For me, too; and if you don't object I would like you to know why it
means so much to me. You see I am anticipating the personal questions."
"I want to know--all that I may."
"It is your right, now that I am in your home. Shall I find you in the
office this evening?"
"Yes; but rather late. Shall we say ten? I shall not be at home for
porridge."
"Any time will do."
We rode out into the open, where the horses cantered quickly along the
highroad to Farmeress Boucher's. There I dismounted to visit her
gardens and bee-hives and share her enthusiasm over the new industry.
We gave our horses the rein on the homeward way and rode in silence,
except for one remark from Mr. Ewart.
"We have not been over the roads, and Cale will be disappointed. We
will go another time."
"That will do just as well; I only want to be able to mark the progress
in September when we return from camp."
It was supper time when we reached the manor, but Mr. Ewart did not
stay for any. He was off again--"on business" he said.