“And in all these years you have never been back East?” he asked.

“No.  We are always planning a trip, but the money which we save for it goes into more plantings.”

They had been moving slowly toward the house, but now he stopped and his glance swept the sky and rested on Galeria.

“It is the best valley of all!  I knew it as soon as I saw it from the pass!” and the rapture of the scene was sounding in every syllable like chimes out of the distance.  She knew that he was far away from the garden, and delaying, still delaying.  If she spoke she felt that he would not hear what she said.  If she went on it seemed certain that she would leave him standing there like a statue.

“And there is more land here to make gardens like this?” he asked slowly, absorbed.

“Yes, with water and labor and time.”

Though his face was in the full light of the sun, it seemed at times in shadow; then it glowed, as if between two passions.  For an instant it was grim, the chin coming forward, the brows contracting; then it was transformed with something that was as a complete surrender to the transport of irresistible temptation.  He looked down at her quickly and she saw him in the mood of story-telling to the children, suffused with the radiance of a decision.

“I prefer the Leddys of Little Rivers to the Leddys of New York,” he said.  “I am not going to-morrow!  I am going to have land and a home under the aegis of the Eternal Painter and in sight of Galeria, and worship at the shrine of fecund peace.  Will you and the Doge help me?” he asked with an enthusiasm that was infectious.  “May I go to his school of agriculture, horticulture, and floriculture?”

Dumfounded, she bent her head and stared at the ground to hide her astonishment.

“You want citizens, industrious young citizens, don’t you?” he persisted.

“Yes, yes!” she said hastily and confusedly.

“Do you know a good piece of land?” he continued.

“Yes, several parcels,” she answered, recovering her poise and smiling in mockery.

“Come on!” he cried.

He was taking long, jumping steps on his crutches as they went up the path.

“You will take me to look at the land, won’t you, please—­now?  I want to get acquainted with my future estate.  I mean to beat the Smiths at plums, Jim Galway at alfalfa, even rival Bob Worther at pumpkins and peonies.  And you will help me lay out the flower garden, won’t you?  You see, I shall have to call in the experts in every line to start with, before I begin to improve on them and make them all jealous.  I may find a kind of plum that will grow on alfalfa stalks,” he hazarded.  “What a horticultural sensation!”

“And a spineless cactus called the Leddy!”

His eyes were laughing into hers and hers irresistibly laughed back.  She guessed that he was only joking.  He had acted so well in the latest role that she had actually believed in his sincerity for a moment.  He meant to take the train, of course, but his resourceful capriciousness had supplied him with a less awkward exit from the garden than she had provided.  He would yet have the last word if she did not watch out—­a last mischievous word at her expense.