She waited a moment for his defense.

None came.
"Why did you tell me you were a professional gardener ?" she went on accusingly.

"Why have you come here at this hour of night pretending to be something you're not ?" By all standards of drama the young man should have wilted before her wrath, Instead he suddenly smiled at her, boyishly, and threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat.
"I know I shouldn't have done it!" he confessed with appealing frankness.

"You'd have found me out anyhow! I don't know anything about gardening.

The truth is," his tone grew somber, "I was desperate! I HAD to have work!" The candor of his smile would have disarmed a stonier-hearted person than Miss Cornelia.