She looked in the old border beds and among the grass, and after she had gone round, trying to miss nothing, she had found ever so many more sharp, pale green points, and she had become quite excited again.
"It isn't a quite dead garden," she cried out softly to herself.

"Even if the roses are dead, there are other things alive." She did not know anything about gardening, but the grass seemed so thick in some of the places where the green points were pushing their way through that she thought they did not seem to have room enough to grow.
She searched about until she found a rather sharp piece of wood and knelt down and dug and weeded out the weeds and grass until she made nice little clear places around them.
"Now they look as if they could breathe," she said, after she had finished with the first ones.

"I am going to do ever so many more.

I'll do all I can see.

If I haven't time to-day I can come to-morrow." She went from place to place, and dug and weeded, and enjoyed herself so immensely that she was led on from bed to bed and into the grass under the trees.