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4. Field Place, Sussex
5. An Old Sussex Cottage
6. A Church Tower
7. A Gardener's Cottage
8. A Roadside Cottage
9. A Ruined Abbey
10. A Corner of the Terrace
11. A Border in Early Autumn
12. The Late Summer-time
13. Patches of Heather
15. An Italian Garden
. Henry Kitching, Esq.
Mrs. Alex. Goschen.
E. G. Locke, Esq.
HAUNTS OF ANCIENT PEACE
'How I wish,' said Lamia, 'we could set off on a driving expedition through England, this lovely, windless Autumn weather!'
'What!' I exclaimed, and leave the Garden that we Love, when now it is in its consummate beauty?'
'Its consummate beauty!' replied Lamia. 'Ever since I first heard of it, it has been in its consummate beauty. If you only knew how weary I am of it! Gushing enthusiasts and habitual adulators, from near and from afar; young women with their middle-aged men, bicycles, and cameras; old women with their lap-dogs and their superlatives; gentlemen from France; ladies from Germany; citizens from
Chicago and Utah, the last followed by their dowdy seraglio of exasperatingly homely wives
In the interest of accuracy,' I ventured to interrupt, and of the moral austerity of the voters of New York and the Eastern Seaboard, let me assure you that polygamy has for many years been abolished in Utah.'
'I wonder how that was managed,' she answered. 'I suppose by a Divorce Bill on a generous scale, with, I trust, handsome compensation,'-here Lamia looked round, to make sure, I rather suspect, that neither Veronica nor the Poet was overhearing her,-' for domestic disturbance and the victims of the latest craze. But, at any rate, prosperous citizens from somewhere, with their signed, sealed, and yet undelivered wives, for I am sure polygamy, or something uncommonly like it, must still subsist somewhere, or there could not be such a preponderance of females perpetually dragging you round your well-beloved and much-advertised Garden, and simpering attendance on your air of self-complacency, with a modest look of as much as to say, "Alone I did it."'
'Are you really serious,' I inquired, anxious to divert her humour, 'in saying you want to wander at this season and
'Perfectly serious. I never was more serious in my life; highly serious, though I never knew any one who really had "high seriousness," always excepting the Poet,-though I know several persons who have low seriousness, that most wearisome thing conceivable.'
What, then, is your ideal of proper seriousness?'
'Can you doubt it?' she rejoined. serious levity, of course, or, if you prefer to put it differently, light seriousness. I pray you cultivate it. I almost think you try to do so, but as yet with imperfect success, in some of the pages dedicated to the numerous volumes descriptive of this same Garden.'
I could see she was beginning to relent, since I had bowed my head so meekly to her breeze of banter, and that she wished to pour spermaceti into my inward bruise, if she had made one, for she went on :
'Your garden books, of course, are inimitable, especially the verses of the Poet that you cite so copiously, and that you are not responsible for, and the urns and other household virtues of Veronica, which you belaud with such touchingly fraternal admiration.'