On the contrary, he took more interest in his physical surroundings than ever.

It was now October, and he threw himself with almost feverish energy into the garden-work belonging to that month.

There were potted carnations to be removed into warmth and shelter, hyacinths and tulips for the spring bloom to be planted in different beds, roses and honeysuckles to be carefully and scientifically pruned, and dead leaves to be plucked off everywhere.

His fragile health prevented him from helping in the more onerous tasks, but he followed Lubin about indefatigably, watching everything he did with eager vigilance, whether he was planting ranunculuses and anemones, or clipping hedges, or trimming evergreens; while he himself was fain to be content with pruning and budding, and directing how the plants should be most fitly set.

He said he wanted the show of flowers next year to be a triumph of gardencraft.