"Good morning," she said, copying her mother's voice. She blushed and tried to look severe and even a little bit short-sighted as she came up to them. Laura wished now that she had not got the bread-and-butter, but there was nowhere to put it, and she couldn't possibly throw it away. They carried staves covered with rolls of canvas, and they had big tool-bags slung on their backs. It's so delicious to have an excuse for eating out of doors, and besides, she loved having to arrange things she always felt she could do it so much better than anybody else.įour men in their shirt-sleeves stood grouped together on the garden path. "You'll have to go, Laura you're the artistic one."Īway Laura flew, still holding her piece of bread-and-butter. Jose, the butterfly, always came down in a silk petticoat and a kimono jacket. She had washed her hair before breakfast, and she sat drinking her coffee in a green turban, with a dark wet curl stamped on each cheek. Treat me as an honoured guest."īut Meg could not possibly go and supervise the men. I'm determined to leave everything to you children this year. "Where do you want the marquee put, mother?" Hundreds, yes, literally hundreds, had come out in a single night the green bushes bowed down as though they had been visited by archangels.īreakfast was not yet over before the men came to put up the marquee. As for the roses, you could not help feeling they understood that roses are the only flowers that impress people at garden-parties the only flowers that everybody is certain of knowing. The gardener had been up since dawn, mowing the lawns and sweeping them, until the grass and the dark flat rosettes where the daisy plants had been seemed to shine.
Only the blue was veiled with a haze of light gold, as it is sometimes in early summer. They could not have had a more perfect day for a garden-party if they had ordered it.
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