124 I n Touch with Nature. 



wrinkled rock. All reluctantly, I turned my face 

 homeward, and there was something soothing in 

 the silence of the woods. Scarcely a bird 

 twittered save the restless swallows, and blossoms 

 lost their brightness. Sorrow, it seems, sees the 

 world through a smoked glass. 



If a summer shower is to be avoided as though 

 there was pestilence in its touch, we were none too 

 soon in reaching the kindly shelter of the old 

 mansion. It rained steadily for a short time, and 

 so I was given again opportunity to linger in the 

 historic rooms. The subdued light fitted well 

 with the surroundings, for antiquity loses some- 

 thing of its charm when exposed to too bright 

 sunlight. In the gloaming time's ravages are 

 veiled, and what might have marred the scene at 

 noonday was now an added glory. 



The rain ceasing, a second start was made, and 

 with those pleasing impressions that such a visit 

 is sure to give, we hurried down a long lane, 

 pausing a moment to look once more at the giant 

 hemlocks that overshadowed the gate, and then 

 Trevose, the one-time home of the Growdens, was 

 to us a thing of the past. 



