CHAPTER XXVIII. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. ” “Perhaps,” he said, “you had better let me have your key, and I will go up and explore. I don’t want to know. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. "What is this?" she wanted to know. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. “I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said.
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