winding path over a bank of rhododendrons near the lake; "to me every
stroll is still a voyage of exploration, and I shall be rather sorry
when I begin to know exactly what I am going to see next. Now, I have
never been this way before, and have no idea what is coming, so you must
tell me, if you know. What a funny scent! I seem to know it, too. Why,
what have they got here?"

On the further side of the bank of rhododendrons the path had descended
into a sheltered hollow, screened altogether from the colder winds, and,
even in this temperate month of May, a very trap for the afternoon sun.
And in this hollow was a clump of attenuated trees, with drooping leaves
of a lacklustre hue, and a white bark peeling from the trunk; a pungent
aroma, more medicinal than sylvan, hung rather heavily over the
sequestered spot.

Rachel stood a moment with wide nostrils and round eyes; the look hardly
lasted longer, and she said no more, but she was aware that Morna had
made some answer to her question.

"What did you say?" inquired Rachel, turning politely to her visitor.

"I said they were blue gums from Australia."

Rachel made no immediate comment; secretive she might have to be, but
to a deliberate pretence she would not stoop. So she did not even say,
"Indeed!" but merely, after a pause, "You are something of a botanist
yourself, then, Mrs. Woodgate?" For they had been talking of the gardens
and of their history as they walked.

"I?" laughed Morna. "I only wish I was; but I happen to remember Mr.