She would have liked a less rowdy chaperon; but as a foil to
her own fresh young beauty Lady Kirkbank was admirable.
They drove down to Rood Hall early next week, Sir George conveying them
in his drag, with a change of horses at Maidenhead. The weather was
peerless; the country exquisite, approached from London. How different
that river landscape looks to the eyes of the traveller returning from
the wild West of England, the wooded gorges of Cornwall and Devon, the
Tamar and the Dart. Then how small and poor and mean seems silvery
Thames, gliding peacefully between his willowy bank, singing his lullaby
to the whispering sedges; a poor little river, a flat commonplace
landscape, says the traveller, fresh from moorland and tor, from the
rocky shore of the Atlantic, the deep clefts of the great, red hills.
To Lesbia's eyes the placid stream and the green pastures, breathing
odours of meadow-sweet and clover, seemed passing lovely. She was
pleased with her own hat and parasol too, which made her graciously
disposed towards the landscape; and the last packet of gloves from North
Audley Street fitted without a wrinkle.
Pages:
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583