Ivy

The count soon mastered the mechanism, the gate opened, and he then found himself in a little garden, about twenty feet long by twelve wide, bounded on one side by part of the hedge, which contained the ingenious contrivance we have called a gate, and on the other by the old tower, covered with ivy and studded with wall-flowers.

There’s a piece of a plate with a spray of red and yellow ivy on it that is especially beautiful.

“‘16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,’ he answered.

“IVY DOUGLAS.”