"I have--cook, and baker, and farmer besides. Come, see our garden--" He takes her by the hand and tugs her around the house, over the brick patio with its sturdy pergola and toward the garden: the thick and leafy cabbage and kale, the twining squash and bean vines, the tomatoes and peppers laden with ripe red fruit. Closer to the house, there are beds of herbs--fennel, dill, and rosemary jostling with thyme and sage, buckets spilling over with nasturtiums and parsley and basil and marjoram. It's clearly a kitchen garden, rather than a gentleman's, but there's a kind of lush beauty to it all the same.