“Burnt them, Nicholas?”

“Why yes, sir,” said Mrs. Swan, “when he used to be sitting up with Mr. Johnnie, he had plenty of time to think, and he did it.”

Johnnie being not yet so strong as before his accident, now went into the house to rest, and Swan proceeded to explain matters.

“It seems, sir, that the new mistress said some time ago, that if there was a conservatory along the front of the house, the rooms could be entered from it, and need not be thoroughfares; so Mr. John Mortimer built one, for he prizes every word she ever said.  Now he had allers allowed me to sell for my own benefit such of my seedlings as we couldn’t use ourselves.  And Fergus sent, when the children were ill, and made me a handsome bid for them.  But there air things as can’t be made fair and square anyhow.  The farrier has no right to charge me so high for shoeing my horse that I’m forced to sell him my horse to pay his bill; but he has a right to say he won’t shoe him at all.  Well, I reckoned as a fair price wouldn’t do for me, and an unfair price I was above asking, so I flung the seedlings on my pea-sticks, and made a bon-fire on ’em.”

“You did!  I think that was waste, Swan.  I think it was wrong.”

“No, sir, I think not; for, as I said, some things won’t pay at any figure.  Their soil’s better than ours.  He meant to bribe me, and so beat me, and bring me down through my own plants.  But would it pay a man to insure his brig that was not seaworthy (though he was to get L50,000 if she went down) provided he had to sail in her himself?  Better by half break her up in the harbour, and have a dry burial for his corpse when his time was come, and mourners to follow, decent and comfortable.  Now it’s reason that if I’d known of this here new conservatory, and the new lad I’m to have to help me, I’d have kept them.”

“Mrs. Swan,” said Valentine, observing that she was moving away, “if it’s agreeable to you, I’ll come in shortly and take a cup of tea with you.”

Mrs. Swan expressed herself pleased, and Swan marched off after her to get ready some cuttings which he was very desirous to send to the gardener at Melcombe.

“How Swanny talks!” said Barbara, who had now returned with her sisters in the carriage, and joined Valentine; “he is so proud when his wife has her best things on, her silk gown and her grand shawl; she only wears them at flower shows and great days like this because she’s a Methodist.”

Mrs. Swan, in fact, consented out of wifely affection to oblige her husband by wearing this worldly array when he specially desired it, but she always sighed more than usual, and behaved with even more sobriety and gravity then, as if to show that the utmost splendour of the world as represented by the satinet gown and a Paisley shawl could not make her forget that she was mortal, or puff up her heart with unbecoming pride.

Valentine, when a young boy, had often taken tea with Mrs. Swan, generally by invitation, when radishes and fruit were added to the buttered muffins.