A Lowland overlooks the whole, the eye is carried instinctively down long 

 Garden broad masses of choicest garden flowers, with their backing 

 of tall Yew hedges, across miles of field, and scattered woodland, 

 rising in gentle, unsuspected degrees till hill and sky intermingle 

 and fade away in the far distance. Every walk in the garden 

 has its own characteristic setting. One is a continuous pergola 

 of trained Apple trees, as beautiful in autumn with russet-skinned 

 fruits, as in May, when wreathed in tender pink. Another calls 

 to remembrance " the pleached bower where Honeysuckles 

 ripened by the sun forbid the sun to enter." One part opens 

 on a quaint little garden of miniature beds, edged with Box, 

 and filled with strong-scented Rue, Southernwood, the fearsome 

 Mandrage with its egg-shaped apples, gray Lavender, Camomile, 

 and other fragrant herbs and quaint old plants familiar since the 

 Stuart kings united the countries lying north and south of the 

 Tweed. Close by there is another walk of different aspect, broad, 

 turf-covered, and partly overshadowed by fruit trees gnarled 

 with years. Under these are large groups of Phloxes in many 

 colours, and nearer to the front Scotch Candy, French and 

 African Marigolds, Yellow Nasturtiums, Snapdragons, Galtonia, 

 and Fennel. Other walks are bordered with immense hedges 

 of Sweet Peas, with Michaelmas Daisies, Christmas Roses and 

 Peonies, Lilies of the Valley and Sweet William, Pinks and 

 Columbines, and flaunting Tulips which hang the head as if 

 half ashamed of their bravery. Here too are grown Roses of 

 every kind loved long ago Scotch, Tuscany, Moss, and Prince 

 Charlie Roses. Nor may we overlook the terrace walls white, 

 when Apricots and Plums are in bloom or the corners and 

 gateways, enlivened with white Jasmine, Banksian Roses, and 

 rambling Clematis Paniculata for autumn and Montana for 



