comprehend how much Blackdeep was a part of me. The front door
always open in daytime, the hollyhocks down to the gate, the
strawberry beds, the currant and gooseberry bushes, the lilacs,
roses, the ragged orchard at the back, the going in and out without
'getting ready,' our living-room with Jim's pipes and tobacco on the
mantel-shelf, his gun over it, his fishing-tackle in the corner--I
little understood that such things and the ease which is felt when
our surroundings grow to us make a good part of the joy of life.
When I came to Blackdeep for my holiday and lifted the latch, it was
just as if a stiff, tight band round my chest dropped from me. I
have nothing to do here. We keep three servants indoors. I would
much rather have but two and help a little myself. They are good
servants, and the work seems to go by mechanism without my
interference. I suggested to Charles that, as they were not fully
employed, we should get rid of one, but he would not consent. He
preferred, he said, paid service. To me the dusting of my room,
paring apples, or the cooking of any little delicacy, is not
service. The cook asks for orders in the morning; the various
dishes are properly prepared; but if I were Charles, and my wife
understood her business, I should like to taste her hand in them. I
never venture into the kitchen. 'The advantage of paid service,'
added Charles, 'is that if it is inefficient you can reprimand or
dismiss.' Nothing in me finds exercise. I want to work, to laugh,
to expect. There was always something going on at Blackdeep, no two
days alike. I never got up in the morning knowing what was before
me till bedtime. That outlook too from my window, how I miss it!--
the miles and miles of distance, the rainbow arch in summer complete
to the ground, the sunlight, the stormy wind, the stars from the
point overhead to the horizon far away--I hardly ever see them here.