THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 



145 



Well, we were at home, and maternal solicitude 

 suggested something to eat, and a most prolonged 

 and charming lunch it was, with much gossip and 

 laughter, while the rain-drops fell from the eaves 

 on to the carpet of rose -petals, which the showers 

 had scattered on the lawn, and the scent of Gloir 

 de Dijon and Marshal Mel tickled our nostrils 

 gratefully. 



Then we wandered out and about, despite of the 

 wet under foot, visiting and making friends with 

 the cattle, the horses, and the dogs, and pacing 

 the garden walks, duly admiring the gardener's 

 chefa-d'ceuvre, startling the cushat from the ivied 

 tree at the end of the kitchen-garden ; getting 

 wet through with the sudden showers ; changing 

 twice, and getting a mighty appetite for dinner; 

 and afterwards enjoying a cosy chat in the Pater's 

 sanctum, a room that opened with glass doors on 

 to the verandah. So we looked out westward over 

 'the undulating meadows and copses to the blue 

 border hills that now stood out sharp and clear, 

 and then receded and were blurred with a yellow 

 curtain of rain. The purple rain-clouds grew 

 ragged and golden at the edges, the gloaming crept 

 up from the weather-gleam, and the night fell 

 peaceful and soundless, save for the recurrent 

 grating cry of a corncrake in the long grass of 

 the hayfield, and the scream of the whirling 

 swifts. 



