castle. That was a castle with a garden which was worth seeing. Part of this
garden was laid out quite in the style of the old days, with stiff green
hedges; you walked as if between green walls with peep-holes in them. Box
trees and yew trees stood there trimmed into the form of stars and pyramids,
and water sprang from fountains in large grottoes lined with shells. All
around stood figures of the most beautiful stone-that could be seen in their
clothes as well as in their faces; every flower-bed had a different shape, and
represented a fish, or a coat of arms, or a monogram. That was the French
part of the garden; and from this part the visitor came into what appeared
like the green, fresh forest, where the trees might grow as they chose, and
accordingly they were great and glorious. The grass was green, and
beautiful to walk on, and it was regularly cut, and rolled, and swept, and
tended. That was the English part of the garden.
“Old time and new time,” said the Count, “here they run well into one
another. In two years the building itself will put on a proper appearance,
there will be a complete metamorphosis in beauty and improvement. I shall
show you the drawings, and I shall show you the architect, for he is to dine
here to-day.”
“Charming!” said the General.
“ ’Tis like Paradise here,” said the General’s lady, “and yonder you have
a knight’s castle!”
“That’s my poultry-house,” observed the Count. “The pigeons live in the
tower, the turkeys in the first floor, but old Elsie rules in the ground floor.
She has apartments on all sides of her. The sitting hens have their own
room, and the hens with chickens have theirs; and the ducks have their own
particular door leading to the water.”
“Charming!” repeated the General.
And all sailed forth to see these wonderful things. Old Elsie stood in the
room on the ground floor, and by her side stood Architect George. He and
Emily now met for the first time after several years, and they met in the
poultry-house.
