Paths wandered here and there, great clumps of ornamental trees hid other clumps, and patches of soft velvet turf were everywhere showing up beds in which were masses of flowers of every hue.

There were cedars, too, that seemed to be laying their great broad boughs upon the grass in utter weariness--they were so heavy and thick; slopes that were masses of rhododendrons, and when I had feasted my eyes for a time on one part Mr Solomon led me on in his serious way to another, where fresh points of beauty struck the eye.
"It's lovely," I cried.

"Oh! Mr Solomon, what a garden!" "Mr Brownsmith, not Mr Solomon," he said rather gruffly; and I apologised and remembered; but I must go on calling him Mr Solomon to distinguish him from my older friend.
"I never saw such a place," I added; "and it's kept so well." "Tidyish--pretty tidy," he said coldly.

"Not enough hands.

Only nine and me--and you--but we do our best." "Why, it's perfection!" I cried.
"No it ain't," he said gruffly.