It was seeing a picture of Dame Nellie as I knew her that recalled memories of this colourful and commanding personality that I knew so well. I first met her when I was slaving in her sister's garden (Mrs. Charley Lemp). She stopped to ask "Do you like your work?" I longed to say "Good heavens! Would I be doing this if I didn't?" but I hypocritically replied "Oh yes, I love it". Instinctively I felt this was what she expected me to say. Afterwards her sister said "lucky for you that you said that, she has no time for anyone with no enthusiasm for their work".

It was years after that I returned home one day to find a note under my door "Where on earth are you? I called in to see you. Will you come over to Coombe Cottage tomorrow and talk about my garden with me?"

It was evening, and Melba was going over her mail. When she came to bills she held them over the fire and dropped them in, saying "The best thing to do with these is to drop them in the fire". It was during one of those periods when she was without a secretary, and I couldn't help hoping - for all concerned - that one would be forthcoming again soon.

"...the first thing I want you to do is to find some girl gardeners, you'd better get three. Come again tomorrow morning and we will walk around the garden".

I remarked on the huge tree stump on the West boundary. "Oh yes, that wretched gardener cut that down when I was in Europe: I want you to plant some more - we must have shelter from the hot afternoon sun on the western boundary."

OPENING EXHIBITION IN ARTS AND CRAFTS

Quite early in my acquaintance with Dame Nellie I asked her if she would open the Exhibition that Michael O'Connor and I were jointly to give at the Arts and Crafts. In my youthful optimism I had not thought for a moment that she might refuse. The lift to that 9th floor had been strained to the utmost of its capacity in raising Michael's heavy stone furnishings for the garden, and the materials I required for constructing the garden I had designed for this exhibition. After the first two or three loads the liftman got used to the idea and received without demur such things as two dozen sods of turf for a ... of grass, 14 or 15 mossy boulders, a few sackfuls of coarse river sand and some pots and bits of plants of no mean dimensions and weight... Oh yes! And that large sheet of tin painted black with a 3 inch rim soldered on to it to retain the water - this was to be the reflecting pool. We laboured at this thing until we got it as near to perfection as the restricted space, the liftman's endurance, and the thought of the floor would permit until the appointed hour of Dame Nellie's arrival. She said all sorts of nice things about me and I shall never forget my mother's expression of pride. I found myself fearing (as one always does for those one loves) that she wouldn't forget herself and say "hear, hear" - or try to start a round of applause.

It was fortunate that I was able to secure the services of a lass for the position of head gardener who I felt would be sufficiently spry not to be too irritating to Dame Nellie, whose temper at times could be short. Indeed so successful was this appointment that there were many times when Joan would be asked "up to the house" to dinner when Dame Nellie found herself alone (which she did not appreciate). The presence of the other two girls was more of less ignored, which I suspect was entirely to their liking. However, their appearance in the garden in the morning on the dot of the hour they were supposed to start work was a different matter! Dame Nellie frequently would rise at 6 a.m. and wander around her garden singing, and to her, even these underlings would be preferable to being alone. Soon tiring of her solitude she would be watching for them with such eagerness that should it be one of their late mornings, Joan, the head gardener, would be told about it in no uncertain terms. I was glad enough to have this girl as an intermediary, for Dame Nellie's displeasure was something to be avoided when possible. However, apart from the episode of the opening of the Exhibition, she must have had rather a soft spot for me because on one occasion when she had administered a rap on the knuckles during a tour of the grounds we turned into the garden door that lead into her boudoir and after asking if I had her book of memoirs she sat down at her desk and wrote in it "To Edna with love from Nellie Melba".

The Coombe Cottage garden was a cool and restful one of mostly trees and lawn. The tree Dame Nellie most treasured was a Silver Poplar which she had planted herself. It was a magnificent tree under which she loved to hold court when the weather was propitious. It shed its soft golden light right into the living rooms in autumn, an effect that delighted her enormously when she was lucky enough to be in residence at that time of the year.

I always thought it was perhaps a good time that she never fully realised the enormity of what that gardener had done in cutting down those large trees on the West boundary. It just meant that the garden on that side of the house was a searingly hot area that one kept away from, instead of being part of what must previously have been a delightful walk around the estate: an effect there was no hope of achieving again in her lifetime.

When Dame Nellie passed away we bowled over the hills to Lilydale to her funeral and ran out of petrol in the middle of the procession! Nothing could have been smoother than the way we got back into the stream of followers again. We rolled out of line just where there was a parked R.A.C.V. petrol car who quickly filled us up, and with an amazing bit of luck the line broke to let some cross traffic through and in no time we were in line again - and that is the end of my Melba story.