"You--you--you're all wrong again," I said in despair. "You don't
put a flame-flower in a place where you think it will look pretty;
you try in all humility to find a favoured spot where it will be
pleased to grow. There may be such a spot in your garden or there
may not. Until I know you better I cannot say. But it is extremely
unlikely to be here, right in front of the window."
They laughed again, and began to dig up the ground. I turned my back
in horror; I could not watch. And at the last moment some qualms of
doubt seized even them. They spoke to me almost humbly.
"How would YOU plant it?" they asked.
It was my last chance of making them realize their responsibility.
"I cannot say at this moment," I began, "exactly how the ceremony
should be performed, but I should endeavour to think of something in
keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. It may be that Mrs
Atherley and I would take the flower and march in procession round
the fountain, singing a suitable chant, while Bob and Archie with
shaven heads prostrated themselves before the sundial. Miss Atherley
might possibly dance the Fire-dance upon the east lawn, while Mr
Atherley stood upon one foot in the middle of the herbaceous border
and played upon her with the garden hose. These or other symbolic
rites we should perform, before we planted it in a place chosen by
Chance. Then leaving a saucer of new milk for it lest it should
thirst in the night we would go away, and spend the rest of the week
in meditation."