"No, I didn'," answered Mr Middlecoat, still sulkily. "But them as I did you bet I scrunched."

"Well, they deserved it, for the last few be the dangerousest.

They give over the leaves to eat the buds. But 'tis labour well spent on 'em, and we'll have baskets on baskets now, by Jubilee Day."

"'Tis the Queen's flower--the royal flower--sure enough," said Cai, looking about him in admiration. He had not visited the new garden for some weeks, and on the last visit it had been but an unpromising patch stuck about with stiff, th.o.r.n.y twigs, all leafless, the most of them projecting but a few inches above the soil. The plants were short yet, and the garden itself far from beautiful; but the twigs had thrown up shoots, and on the shoots had opened, or were opening, roses that drew even his inexperienced eye to admire them.

"I'm afraid there's no doubt of it," said Mrs Bosenna. "I love the old H.P.'s: but you must grow the Teas and Hybrid Teas nowadays, if you want to exhibit. Yet I love the old H.P.'s, and I've planted a few, to hold their own and just show as they won't be shamed. See this one now-- there's a proper Jubilee rose, and named _Her Majesty!_ Brought out, they tell me, in 'eighty-five: but the Yankees bought up all the stock, and it didn't get back into this country until 'eighty-seven, the last Jubilee year. See the thorns on her, _and_ the stiff pride o' stem, _and_ the pride o' colour--fit for any queen! She's not the best, though. . . . She'll do for last Jubilee--not for this. Wait till you've seen the best of all!"

She led them to a plant--stunted by the secateurs, yet vigorous--which showed, with three or four buds as yet closed and green, one solitary bloom, pure white and of incomparable shape.

"There!" said she proudly. "That's a tea, and the finest yet grown, to _my_ mind. That's the rose for this Diamond Jubilee, and white as a diamond. A proper royal Widow's rose!"

"Is that its name?" asked Cai.

Mrs Bosenna laughed and plucked the bloom.

"On the contrary," said she with a mischievous twitch of the mouth, "'tis called _The Bride!_ There's only one bloom, you see, and I can't offer to part it. Now which of you two 'd like it for a b.u.t.tonhole?"

She held out the rose, challenging them.

"I--I--" stammered Cai, backing against 'Bias's knuckles which dug him in the back--"I grant ye, ma'am, 'tis a fine rose--a lovely rose--but for my part, a trace o' colour--"

"Bright red," prompted 'Bias.

"Bright red--for both of us--"

"And now I've plucked it," sighed Mrs Bosenna.

"Well, if you won't, perhaps Mr Middlecoat will, rather than waste it."

Mr Middlecoat stepped forward and allowed the enormous bloom to be inserted in his b.u.t.tonhole, where its pure white threw up a fine contrast to his crimsoning face.

"You won't think me forward, I hope?" said Mrs Bosenna, turning about.

"The fact is--though I don't want it generally known yet--that yesterday Mr Middlecoat, in his disagreeable way, made me promise to marry him?"

Before the pair could recover, she had moved to another bush.

"Red roses, you prefer? Red is rare amongst the Teas--there's but one, as yet, that can be called red--if this suits you? And, by luck, there are two perfect b.u.t.tonholes."

She plucked the buds and held them out.

"It's name," said she, "is _Liberty._"

CHAPTER XXVIII.

JUBILEE.

For the best part of a week before the great Day of Jubilee Cai and 'Bias toiled together and toiled with a will, erecting the framework of a triumphal arch to span the roadway. Within-doors, in the intervals of household duty, Mrs Bowldler measured, drew, and cut out a number of capital letters in white linen, to be formed into a motto and sewn upon red Turkey twill, while Palmerston industriously constructed and wired gross upon gross of paper roses--an art in which he had been instructed by Fancy, who had read all about it in a weekly newspaper, 'The Cosy Hearth.' The two friends talked little to one another during those busy June days. Strollers-by--and it had become an evening recreation in Troy to stroll from one end of the town to the other and mark how things were getting along for the 22nd--found Captain Hocken and Captain Hunken ever at work but little disposed to chat; and as everyone knew of the old quarrel, so everyone noted the reconciliation and marvelled how it had come to pa.s.s. Even Mr Philp was baffled. Mr Philp, pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing many times a day, never missed to halt and attempt conversation; with small result, however.

"It's a wonder to me," he grumbled at last, "how men of your age can risk scramblin' about on ladders with your mouths constantly full o'

nails."

In the evenings they supped together. Mrs Bowldler had made free to suggest this.

"Which," said Mrs Bowldler in magnificent anacoluthon, "if we see it as we ought, this bein' no ordinary occasion, but in a manner of speakin'

one of Potentates and Powers and of our feelin's in connection therewith; by which I allude to our beloved Queen, whom Gawd preserve!-- Gawd bless her! I say, and He _will_, too, from what I know of 'im--and therefore deservin' of our yunited efforts; and, that bein' the case, it would distinkly 'elp, from the point of view of the establishment (meanin' Palmerston and me) if we (meanin' you, sir, and Captain Hunken) could make it convenient to have our meals in common. . . . The early Christians were not above it," she added. "Not they! Ho, not,--if I may use the expression--by a long chalk!"

She contrived it so delicately that afterwards neither Cai nor 'Bias could remember precisely at what date--whether on the Wednesday or on the Thursday--they slipped back into the old comfortable groove.

The arch occupied their thoughts. After supper, as they sat and smoked, their talk ran on it: on details of its construction; on the chances (exiguous indeed!) of its being eclipsed by rivals in the town, some in course of construction, a few as yet existent only in the promises of rumour.

Cai would say, "I hear the Dunstans are makin' great preparations in their back-yard. They mean to bring their show out at the last moment, and step it in barrels."

"I don't believe in barrels," 'Bias would respond. "Come a breeze o'

wind, where are you? Come a strong breeze, and over you go, endangerin'

life. It ought to be forbidden."

"No chance of a breeze, though." Cai had been studying the gla.s.s closely all the week.

"Fog, more like. 'Tis the time o' the year for fogs."

Other matters they discussed more desultorily; meetings of the Procession Committee, of the Luncheon Committee (all the parish was to feast together), of the Tree-planting Committee, of the Tea Committee; the cost of the mugs and the medals for the children, the latest returns handed in by Mr Benny, who had undertaken the task of calling on every householder, poor or rich, and collecting donations. But to the arch their talk recurred.

--And rightly: for in the arch they were building better than they knew.

In it, though unaware (being simple men), they were rebuilding friendship.

By Sat.u.r.day evening the scaffolding was complete, firmly planted, firmly nailed, firmly clasped together by rope--in sailors' hitches such as do not slip. They viewed it, approved it, and soberly, having gathered up tools, went in to supper. On Sunday they attended morning service in church, and oh! the glow in their hearts when, in place of the usual voluntary, the organ rolled out the first bars of "G.o.d Save the Queen"

and all the worshippers sprang to their feet together!

On Monday the town awoke to the rumbling of waggons. They came in from the plantations where since the early June daybreak Squire w.i.l.l.yams's foresters and gardeners had been cutting young larches, firs, laurels, aucubas. The waggons halted at every door and each householder took as much as he required. So, all that day, Cai and 'Bias packed their arch with evergreens; until at five o'clock Mr Philp, happening along, could find no c.h.i.n.k anywhere in its solid verdure. He called his congratulations up to them as, high on ladders, they affixed flags to the corner poles and looped the whole with festoons of roses.

And now for the motto to crown the work! Fancy Tabb coming up the roadway and pausing while she conned the structure, shading her eyes against the sun-rays that slanted over it, beheld Mrs Bowldler and Palmerston issue from the doorway in solemn procession, bearing between them a length of Turkey twill. Mrs Bowldler pa.s.sed one end up to Captain Hocken, high on his ladder: Captain Hunken reached down and took the other end from Palmerston. Between them, as they lifted the broad fillet above the archway, its folds fell apart, and she read:--

MANY DAUGHTERS HAVE DONE VIRTUOUSLY BUT THOU EXCELLEST THEM ALL.

"My! I'd like to be a Queen!"

"If I had my way, you WOULD," whispered Palmerston, who, edging close to her, had overheard.

"Eh? Is that Fancy Tabb?" interrupted Cai. He had happened to glance over his shoulder and spied her from the ladder. "Well, and what d'ee think of it?" he asked, as one sure of the answer.

"I was sayin' as I'd like to be a Queen," said Fancy. "Queen of England, I mean: none of your second-bests."

"Well, my dear," Cai a.s.sured her, bustling down the ladder and staring up at the motto to make sure that it hung straight, "_that_ you won't never be: but you're among the many as have done virtuously, and G.o.d bless 'ee for it! Which is pretty good for your age."