He did not go into ecstasies, as I had half expected; but gazed about
him observantly, while a quiet, intense satisfaction grew and
diffused itself over his whole countenance.

"It's a VERY nice place."

Certainly it was. A large square, chiefly grass, level as a
bowling-green, with borders round. Beyond, divided by a low hedge,
was the kitchen and fruit garden--my father's pride, as this
old-fashioned pleasaunce was mine. When, years ago, I was too weak
to walk, I knew, by crawling, every inch of the soft, green, mossy,
daisy-patterned carpet, bounded by its broad gravel walk; and above
that, apparently shut in as with an impassable barrier from the outer
world, by a three-sided fence, the high wall, the yew-hedge, and the
river.

John Halifax's comprehensive gaze seemed to take in all.

"Have you lived here long?" he asked me.

"Ever since I was born."

"Ah!--well, it's a nice place," he repeated, somewhat sadly. "This
grass plot is very even--thirty yards square, I should guess. I'd
get up and pace it; only I'm rather tired."

"Are you? Yet you would carry--"

"Oh--that's nothing. I've often walked farther than to-day. But