“Visitors?” she echoed.  “And me in this state to receive ’em, earthed up to the wrists!” She plucked off her gardening-gloves, handed them to Dinah, and stooped to snatch up one of a pair of white cuffs—­badges of her widowhood—­that she had laid aside on the turf before starting to work.  While slipping it over her wrist she found time to glance up at Captain Cai, who fumbled confusedly with the rim of his tall hat.

“Excuse me, madam—­no wish to intrude.  We’ll take ourselves off this minute, eh?” He turned to the child, who, however, did not budge.

“Please, don’t go.  You are—?”

“Caius Hocken, ma’am—­of the Hannah Hoo—­at your service.”

“Dear me, what a very pleasant surprise!” (Oh, Mrs Bosenna!) She held out a hand.  “I am glad to make your acquaintance, Captain Hocken.”

“I hope I see you well, ma’am?” Captain Cai took the hand and dropped it nervously.

“Quite well, I thank God. . . .  They told me your ship had arrived, sir; but I could not count—­could I?—­on your coming to inspect the house so soon.”

“If I’ve been over hasty, ma’am—­”

“Not at all,” she interrupted.  “There now!  I put things so clumsily at times!  I meant to excuse myself; for, you see, the house has been yours since Lady-day—­that’s to say, if you sign the lease,—­and Lady-day’s more than a week past.  So ’tis I that am the intruder. . . .But passing the garden yesterday, I’d a notion that half a dozen dwarf roses would improve it, without your knowledge.  You’re not offended, I hope, now that you’ve caught me?  I dote on roses, for my part.”

“I—­I take it very kindly, ma’am.”

“‘Tis a funny time o’ the year to be plantin’ roses, isn’t it?” asked Fancy.

“Eh?” In the dusk Mrs Bosenna treated her to a disapproving stare.  “Is that Elijah Tabb’s child? . . .  You’ve grown such a lot lately, I hardly recognised you.”

“I noticed that,” said the child with composure, “though I didn’t guess the reason.  But ‘tis a funny time to be plantin’ roses, all the same.”

“And pray, child, what do you know about roses?”

“Nothing,” answered Fancy, “’cept that ‘tis a funny time to be plantin’ ’em.”

“When you grow a little older,” said Mrs Bosenna icily, “you’ll know that anything can be done with roses in these days—­with proper precautions.  Why”—­she turned to Captain Cai—­“I’ve planted out roses in July month—­in pots, of course.  You break the pots in the October following.  But there must be precautions.”

“Meanin’ manure?”

“Cow,” interposed Dinah tersely, “it’s the best.  Pig comes next, for various reasons.”

“We need not go into details,” said Mrs Bosenna.  “I sent down a cartload this morning and had it well dug in.  Provided you dig it deep enough, and don’t let it touch the young roots—­”

“I thank you kindly, ma’am,” said Captain Cai, “and so will my friend ’Bias Hunken when he hears of it.”