Slowly, as was their wont, they crossed among the constellations of buttercups and daisies, and entered the fernery. Thisfeature, where very little grew as yet, had been judiciously dropped below the level of the lawn so that it might come upagain on the level of the other lawn and give the impression of irregularity, so important in horticulture. Its rocks andearth were beloved of the dog Balthasar, who sometimes found a mole there. Old Jolyon made a point of passing through itbecause, though it was not beautiful, he intended that it should be, some day, and he would think: ‘I must get Varr to comedown and look at it; he’s better than Beech.’ For plants, like houses and human complaints, required the best expertconsideration. It was inhabited by snails, and if accompanied by his grandchildren, he would point to one and tell them thestory of the little boy who said: ‘Have plummers got leggers, Mother? ‘No, sonny.’ ‘Then darned if I haven’t been andswallowed a snileybob.’ And when they skipped and clutched his hand, thinking of the snileybob going down the little boy’s‘red lane,’ his eyes would twinkle. Emerging from the fernery, he opened the wicket gate, which just there led into thefirst field, a large and park-like area, out of which, within brick walls, the vegetable garden had been carved. Old Jolyonavoided this, which did not suit his mood, and made down the hill towards the pond. Balthasar, who knew a water-rat or two,gambolled in front, at the gait which marks an oldish dog who takes the same walk every day. Arrived at the edge, old Jolyonstood, noting another water-lily opened since yesterday; he would show it to Holly to-morrow, when ‘his little sweet’ hadgot over the upset which had followed on her eating a tomato at lunch — her little arrangements were very delicate. Now thatJolly had gone to school — his first term — Holly was with him nearly all day long, and he missed her badly. He felt that