64 A BOOK ABOUT THE GARDEN. 



that there are too many evergreens around to allow 

 the eye to rest upon it, much less to be offended by 

 it ; and that it is so with all the deciduous trees. 



" And we seem," said Miss Susan to me (two maiden 

 sisters live at the Grange, Miss Susan and Miss 

 Mary Johnstone, so sweet-tempered and good and 

 graceful, that I often wish they were twenty years 

 younger, and bigamy more in vogue) "we seem to 

 have all the happiness of a garden, without those little 

 vexations and disappointments which trouble some 

 of our neighbours. We ought to be very thankful ; " 

 and I know that she is thankful, though she neither 

 groans, nor squints at the firmament, and in fact does 

 not care what I think on the subject ; " for our home 

 is not only lovely in our own eyes, but seems to endear 

 itself to our friends also. Even strangers are struck 

 at once with the greenness and quietness of our ' fair 

 ground.' Our good Duke, lunching here in September 

 it is only in the partridge season that we have the 

 privilege of a visit looked around, and sighed to 

 himself, ' How very, very peaceful ! ' He was comparing 

 our pretty little plot, I fancy, with his grand terraces, 

 and his geometrical designs, his rainbows, his ribbons, 

 and his stars, and I verily believe that he preferred 

 the former. Indeed, he confessed as much, by quo- 

 ting two lines of poetry, which we afterwards found in 

 a translation by Mr. Pope from Martial: 



' But simple Nature's band with nobler grace 

 Diffuses artless beaiities o'er the place.' 



And dear Mr. Oldacre, the first time he smoked a pipe 

 in the new arbour, seemed to arrive at a similar con- 



