In fact Mr. Wilkins, who had begun by being consciously and
according to plan on his best behaviour, remained on it unconsciously,
and with no effort at all.
And meanwhile the beautiful golden days were dropping gently from
the second week one by one, equal in beauty with those of the first,
and the scent of beanfields in flower on the hillside behind the
village came across to San Salvatore whenever the air moved. In the
garden that second week the poet's eyed narcissus disappeared out the
long grass at the edge of the zigzag path, and wild gladiolus, slender
and rose-coloured, came in their stead, white pinks bloomed in the
borders, filing the whole place with their smoky-sweet smell, and a
bush nobody had noticed burst into glory and fragrance, and it was a
purple lilac bush. Such a jumble of spring and summer was not to be
believed in, except by those who dwelt in those gardens. Everything
seemed to be out together--all the things crowded into one month which
in England are spread penuriously over six. Even primroses were found
one day by Mrs. Wilkins in a cold corner up in the hills; and when she
brought them down to the geraniums and heliotrope of San Salvatore they
looked quite shy.
Chapter 17
On the first day of the third week Rose wrote to Frederick.
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