Chapter 12

           

           "HehadmoretowonhisdistaffeThanGerveisknew."—CHAUCER.

           TheridetoStoneCourt,whichFredandRosamondtookthenextmorning,laythroughaprettybitofmidlandlandscape,almostallmeadowsandpastures,withhedgerowsstillallowedtogrowinbushybeautyandtospreadoutcoralfruitforthebirds.Littledetailsgaveeachfieldaparticularphysiognomy,deartotheeyesthathavelookedonthemfromchildhood:thepoolinthecornerwherethegrassesweredankandtreesleanedwhisperingly;thegreatoakshadowingabareplaceinmid-pasture;thehighbankwheretheash-treesgrew;thesuddenslopeoftheoldmarl-pitmakingaredbackgroundfortheburdock;thehuddledroofsandricksofthehomesteadwithoutatraceablewayofapproach;thegraygateandfencesagainstthedepthsoftheborderingwood;andthestrayhovel,itsold,oldthatchfullofmossyhillsandvalleyswithwondrousmodulationsoflightandshadowsuchaswetravelfartoseeinlaterlife,andseelarger,butnotmorebeautiful.Thesearethethingsthatmakethegamutofjoyinlandscapetomidland-bredsoulsthethingstheytoddledamong,orperhapslearnedbyheartstandingbetweentheirfather’skneeswhilehedroveleisurely.

           Buttheroad,eventhebyroad,wasexcellent;forLowick,aswehaveseen,wasnotaparishofmuddylanesandpoortenants;anditwasintoLowickparishthatFredandRosamondenteredafteracoupleofmiles’riding.

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