FicialReceiverswithflamingswordstodriveusoutofourgarden！I’dhopedwe’dneverhaveanotherTrek。Well——anyway，itwon’tbeCrestHill。Butit’shardonTeddy。Hemustbeinsuchamessupthere。Pooroldchap。Isupposewecan’thelphim。Isupposewe’donlyworryhim。HavesomemoresoupGeorge——whilethereissome？。”
Thenextdaywasoneofthosedaysofstrongperceptionthatstandoutclearinone’smemorywhenthecommoncourseofdaysisblurred。Icanrecallnowtheawakeninginthelargefamiliarroomthatwasalwayskeptforme，andhowIlaystaringatitschintz-coveredchairs，itsspacedfinefurniture，itsglimpseofthecedarswithout，andthoughtthatallthishadtoend。
Ihaveneverbeengreedyformoney，Ihaveneverwantedtoberich，butIfeltnowanimmensesenseofimpendingdeprivation。
Ireadthenewspapersafterbreakfast——Iandmyaunttogether——andthenIwalkeduptoseewhatCothopehaddoneinthematterofLordRobertsB。NeverbeforehadIappreciatedsoacutelytheamplebrightnessoftheLadyGrovegardens，thedignityandwidepeaceofallaboutme。ItwasoneofthosewarmmorningsinlateMaythathavewonallthegloryofsummerwithoutlosingthegaydelicacyofspring。Theshrubberywasbrightwithlaburnumandlilac，thebedsswarmedwithdaffodilsandnarcissiandwithliliesofthevalleyintheshade。
Iwentalongthewell-keptpathsamongtherhododendraandthroughtheprivategateintothewoodswherethebluebellsandcommonorchidwereinprofusion。NeverbeforehadItastedsocompletelythefinesenseofprivilegeandownership。Andallthishastoend，Itoldmyself，allthishastoend。