She went and stood beside him and watched him a few moments in her cold little way.

He took no notice of her and so at last she spoke to him.
"I have been into the other gardens," she said.
"There was nothin' to prevent thee," he answered crustily.
"I went into the orchard." "There was no dog at th' door to bite thee," he answered.
"There was no door there into the other garden," said Mary.
"What garden ?" he said in a rough voice, stopping his digging for a moment.
"The one on the other side of the wall," answered Mistress Mary.
"There are trees there--I saw the tops of them.

A bird with a red breast was sitting on one of them and he sang." To her surprise the surly old weather-beaten face actually changed its expression.

A slow smile spread over it and the gardener looked quite different.

It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a person looked when he smiled.