How they all laughed, as the
big, black houses gave way to brighter streets, and these again
began to open upon glimpses of field or garden! Not one of them had
the slightest conception of whither they were being taken, or what
was to happen to them at length. But they had confidence in "the
lady." She was a sorceress in their eyes; what limit could there be
to her powers? Something good and joyous awaited them; that was all
they knew or cared; leagues of happiness, stretching away to the
remote limits of the day's glory; a present rapture beyond
knowledge, and a memory for ever.
Mr. Woodstock stood within the gate of the garden, his hands in his
pockets, and as the vehicle came in sight he drew just a little
back.
They streamed along the carriage-drive, and in a minute or two were
all clustered upon the lawn behind the house. What was expected of
them? Had an angel taken them by he hand and led them straight from
Litany Lane through the portals of paradise, they could not have
been more awed and bewildered. Trees and rose-bushes, turf and beds
of flowers, seats in the shade, skipping-ropes thrown about on the
open--and there, hark, a hand-organ, a better one than ever they
danced to on the pavement, striking up to make them merry.
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