large/1336/afterward_cb_librivox_64kb_mp3/afterward_2_wharton_cb_64kb_121
large/1336/afterward_cb_librivox_64kb_mp3/afterward_2_wharton_cb_64kb
English
1336
At their farther end rose a grass terrace, commanding, over the fish pond and the yew hedges, a view of the long house front, with its twisted chimney stacks and the blue shadows of its roof angles, all drenched in the pale gold moisture of the air. AT THEIR FARTHER END ROSE A GRASS TERRACE LOOKING ACROSS THE FISH POND AND YEW HEDGES TO THE LONG HOUSE FRONT WITH ITS TWISTED CHIMNEY STACKS AND BLUE ROUGH ANGLES ALL DRENCHED IN THE PALE GOLD MOISTURE OF THE AIR
ation, that the winter months were all too short to plan what spring and autumn executed. And her recovered sense of safety gave, on this particular morning, a peculiar zest to her progress through the sweet, still place. She went first to the kitchen-garden, where the espalier pear-trees drew complicated patterns on the walls, and pigeons were fluttering and preening about the silvery-slated roof of their cot. There was something wrong about the piping of the hothouse, and she was expecting an authority from Dorchester, who was to drive out between trains and make a diagnosis of the boiler. But when she dipped into the damp heat of the greenhouses, among the spiced scents and waxy pinks and reds of old-fashioned exotics, -- even the flora of Lyng was in the note!-she learned that the great man had not arrived, and the day being too rare to waste in an artificial atmosphere, she came out again and paced slowly along the springy turf of the bowling-green to the gardens behind the house. A SINGLE IRREVERENT TOUCH OF ALTERATION THAT THE WINTER WAS ALL TOO SHORT TO PLAN WHAT SPRING AND AUTUMN EXECUTED AND HER RECOVERED SENSE OF SAFETY GAVE ON THIS PARTICULAR MORNING A PECULIAR ZEST TO HER PROGRESS THROUGH THE SWEET STILL PLACE SHE WENT FIRST TO THE KITCHEN GARDEN WHERE THE ESPALIARD PEAR TREES DREW COMPLICATED PATTERNS ON THE WALLS AND PIGEONS WERE FLUTTERING AND PREENING ABOUT THE SILVERY SLATED ROOF OF THEIR COT THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG ABOUT THE PIPING OF THE HOTHOUSE AND SHE WAS EXPECTING AN AUTHORITY FROM DORCHESTER WHO WAS TO DRIVE OUT BETWEEN TRAINS AND MAKE A DIAGNOSIS OF THE BOILER BUT WHEN SHE DIPPED INTO THE DAMP HEAT OF THE GREENHOUSES AMONG THE SPICED SCENTS AND WAXY PINKS AND REDS OF OLD FASHIONED EXOTICS EVEN THE FLORA OF LYING WAS IN THE NOTE SHE LEARNED THAT THE GREAT MAN HAD NOT ARRIVED AND THE DAY BEING TOO RARE TO WASTE IN AN ARTIFICIAL ATMOSPHERE SHE CAME OUT AGAIN AND PACED ALONG THE SPRINGY TURF OF THE BOWLING GREEN TO THE GARDENS BEHIND THE HOUSE
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