“That’s quite a showing of hedges all in one yard.” exclaimed Ethel Blue admiringly.  “And I never noticed them at all!”

“At the new place Mother wants to try a barberry hedge.  It doesn’t grow regularly, but each bush is handsome in itself because the branches droop gracefully, and the leaves are a good green and the clusters of red berries are striking.”

“The leaves turn red in the autumn and the whole effect is stunning,” contributed Della.  “I saw one once in New England.  They aren’t usual about here, and I should think it would be a beauty.”

“You can let it grow as tall as you like,” said James.  “Your house is going to be above it on the knoll and look right over it, so you don’t need a low hedge or even a clipped one.”

“At the side and anywhere else where she thinks there ought to be a real fence she’s going to put honey locust.”

They all laughed.

“That spiny affair will be discouraging to visitors!” Helen exclaimed.  “Why don’t you try hedges of gooseberries and currants and raspberries and blackberries around your garden?”

“That would be killing two birds with one stone, wouldn’t it!”

“You’ll have a real problem in landscape gardening over there,” said Margaret.

“The architect of the house will help on that.  That is, he and Mother will decide exactly where the house is to be placed and how the driveway is to run.”

“There ought to be some shrubs climbing up the knoll,” advised Ethel Brown.  “They’ll look well below the house and they’ll keep the bank from washing.  I noticed this afternoon that the rains had been rather hard on it.”

“There are a lot of lovely shrubs you can put in just as soon as you’re sure the workmen won’t tramp them all down,” cried Ethel Blue eagerly.  “That’s one thing I do know about because I went with Aunt Marion last year when she ordered some new bushes for our front yard.”

“Recite your lesson, kid,” commanded Roger briefly.

“There is the weigelia that Dorothy has in front of this house; and forsythia—­we forced its yellow blossoms last week, you know; and the flowering almond—­that has whitey-pinky-buttony blossoms.”

They laughed at Ethel’s description, but they listened attentively while she described the spiky white blossoms of deutzia and the winding white bands of the spiraea—­bridal wreath.

“I can see that bank with those white shrubs all in blossom, leaning toward the road and beckoning you in,” Ethel ended enthusiastically.

“I seem to see them myself,” remarked Tom, “and Dorothy can be sure that they won’t beckon in vain.”

“You’ll all be as welcome as daylight,” cried Dorothy.

“I hate to say anything that sounds like putting a damper on this outburst of imagination that Ethel Blue has just treated us to, but I’d like to inquire of Miss Smith whether she has any gardening tools,” said Roger, bringing them all to the ground with a bump.