ones he had cherished and allured into a renewal of existence—­the new ones he had so coaxed out of their earthen pots into the soil, luxuriously prepared for their reception, and had afterwards so nourished and bedewed with soft waterings, so supported, watched over and adored that they had been almost unconscious of their transplanting.  Without assistants he could have done nothing, but he had been given a sufficient number of under gardeners, and had even managed to inspire them with something of his own ambition and solicitude.  The result was before Betty’s eyes in an aspect which, to such as knew the gardens well,—­the Dunholms, for instance,—­was astonishing in its success.

“I’ve had privileges, miss, and so have the flowers,” Kedgers had said warmly, when Miss Vanderpoel had reported to him, for his encouragement, Dunholm Castle’s praise.  “Not one of ’em has ever had to wait for his food and drink, nor to complain of his bed not being what he was accustomed to.  They’ve not had to wait for rain, for we’ve given it to ’em from watering cans, and, thank goodness, the season’s been kind to ’em.”

Betty, descending the terrace steps, wandered down the paths between the flower beds, glancing about her as she went.  The air of neglect and desolation had been swept away.  Buttle and Tim Soames had been given as many privileges as Kedgers.  The chief points impressed upon them had been that the work must be done, not only thoroughly, but quickly.  As many additional workmen as they required, as much solid material as they needed, but there must be a despatch which at first it staggered them to contemplate.  They had not known such methods before.  They had been accustomed to work under money limitation throughout their lives, and, when work must be done with insufficient aid, it must be done slowly.  Economy had been the chief factor in all calculations, speed had not entered into them, so leisureliness had become a fixed habit.  But it seemed American to sweep leisureliness away into space with a free gesture.

“It must be done quickly,” Miss Vanderpoel had said.  “If ten men cannot do it quickly enough, you must have twenty—­or as many more as are needed.  It is time which must be saved just now.”

Time more than money, it appeared.  Buttle’s experience had been that you might take time, if you did not charge for it.  When time began to mean money, that was a different matter.  If you did work by the job, you might drive in a few nails, loiter, and return without haste; if you worked by the hour, your absence would be inquired into.  In the present case no one could loiter.  That was realised early.  The tall girl, with the deep straight look at you, made you realise that without spoken words.  She expected energy something like her own.  She was a new force and spurred them.  No man knew how it was done, but, when she appeared among them—­even in the afternoon—­“lookin’ that womany,” holding up her thin dress over lace petticoats, the like of which had not been seen before, she looked on with just the same straight, expecting eyes.  They did not seem to doubt in the least that she would find that great advance had been made.