“He is as well as any man may be, who has been denied a glimpse of his native shores for six months together. He found success in Austria, I understand — the Hapsburgs will stand with England and Russia — and is presently embarked for Amsterdam.”[56]

“Amsterdam?” I echoed. “As Mr. Pitt's personal envoy, perhaps?”

“I believe Lord Harold presently enjoys that honour.”

“Then he is charged with the thankless task of persuading a Scots banker to lend, where all confidence is lacking.” Unless, I thought, Trowbridge is too late — and Mr. Grey's funds have already rescued the French crown.

'You have been reading the Times, I see,” Mr. Emilious observed with a twinkle. “You may soon discover some interesting items in its columns, I believe — but I shall say no more, at present.”

We had been walking all this while to the end of the sweep; had passed the lodge, crossed the Canterbury road, and were fetched up at the little foot-bridge over the Stour.[57] The tedious uphill climb to achieve the temple next engrossed our attention, and Mr. Emilious — being better suited to the consumption of an elegant meal, than the scaling of more Picturesque heights — could hardly be expected to spare breath for my amusement.

“Capital!” Mr. Sothey cried, his face aglow. He stood under the temple's portico next to my brother, who was also flushed with the exercise. Lizzy had adopted a chair. “The house is nobly positioned between this rise of the downs and the hills against its back; and with the Stour bisecting the narrow valley, it is a most bucolic scene. That cottage away to the right, with the road winding up to it, is a dependent's?”

“It belongs to the gamekeeper,” Neddie said, “for the deer park runs up through the far downs; and that building behind die house, midway up die slope, is the ice house.”

“Your farmland is where?”

“To die south.”

“I see. Adjacent to the church?”

“Just so.”

“That avenue, I collect, is your usual path to Sunday service?”

“We have traversed it already twice today.”

Mr. Sothey shaded his eyes with one hand against the slanting light of the westering sun, and turned first north and then south, towards Chilham Castle. “It is remarkable, however, how little space was accorded the pleasure gardens, given the expanse of the park, and the commodious impression afforded by the rising ground. It is unfortunate that the river runs so close to the road, and the road so near to the gatekeeper's lodge. There is an impression of confinement, of claustration, at that end of the estate, that is most unfortunate. The garden paths running down to the limes only increase that sensation, if you will observe; for they are without exception unvaryingly straight, and must serve as boundaries rather than avenues of escape.”

Neddie's eyes narrowed, and his lips compressed.

“I rather wonder at the original builder's intent,” Mr. Sothey mused, “in placing the house at right angles to the river and the road.”

“Perhaps he found a southern exposure, and the prospect of the downs and the church, more pleasant than that of the highway,” Neddie said tartly.

“Perhaps — but as you see, it increases the crowding of the sweep and the lodge immeasurably. Those are kitchen gardens, I suppose?” Mr. Sothey gestured towards two enclosures at the north end of Bentigh.

“They are,” Neddie replied. “An estate cannot hope to function without them. They have served us amply for more years than you can claim, Mr. Sothey.” There was a faint note of belligerence in his tone, as tho' the improver's observations were felt as a personal attack.

“My dear sir,” Mr. Sothey said swiftly, “you must not take it amiss if I prod and prick your sensibilities here and there. It is always difficult to work against the force of habit; we are creatures of convention, as you very well know, and despise the merest hint of change. It is essential, however, to comprehend the daily employment of these grounds, and the manner in which the work of the estate might be improved, and made compatible with its visual delights. I shall demand to know a great deal from the kitchen maids — how often they use certain paths, where the villagers are wont to trespass, and whither the Austen ladies delight in roaming, in the pursuit of exercise. All this must be understood, before anything of improvement may be achieved.”

“And so the genius of our place is a kitchen maid?” I enquired, amused. “I tremble to think what might occur, if the nursemaid is not appeased!”

Mr. Sothey threw back his head and laughed. His remarkable auburn locks rippled in the sun; and I was struck at once by the vigour and openness of his looks— he might have been Gabriel, surveying the Lord's kingdom. “I should have said the genie of Godmersham was Demeter, Miss Austen — the drowsing hum of the birds among the grain speaks only of harvest to my ears; but we shall know better with time. Perhaps the resident spirit is one of water, and sings through the stones of the Stour; or perhaps it wanders among the lime trees, plaiting violets in its hair.”

“Then pray take care you do not destroy its natural haunt,” Neddie broke in.

“Heaven forbid!” Mr. Sothey cried. “I cannot think that destruction is the wisest approach to Art. You are happy, Mr. Austen, in the possession of an estate where natural beauty and a wise hand have achieved much; the essentials of the place are so good, that a very little effort may offer considerable rewards.”

Neddie did not look appeased; there was a stiffness to his demeanour, and a caution in his air, that argued opposition to anything Mr. Sothey might counsel.

“I should like to sketch the approach from the Stour,” Mr. Sothey said with decision, “and then ascend to the ice house. We might profitably traverse the garden paths afterwards, and examine the avenue of lime trees. They are of considerable age, if I do not mistake?”

“Indeed,” Neddie replied, “and are regarded with affection by most of the populace.”

Happily, Mr. Sothey was too little intimate with my brother to read his humours in his looks; Lizzy and I were not so fortunate.

“It was ever thus,” Lizzy murmured to me. “You cannot think how many months together I was forced to urge the abandonment of your brother's periwig, and the laying aside of the powdering horn, in favour of his delightful hair! I believe a twelvemonth at least was required to achieve it; and now he would have it the change in fashion was all his own thought, and as natural as breathing. It will be the same with Mr. Sothey's views, I am sure.”

“Let us hope that Mr. Sothey does not advise the felling of Bentigh,” I replied, and prepared to follow the gentlemen down the slope.

It was just as we rounded the northern side of the house, and prepared to ascend to the ice house, that we fell in with Anne Sharpe.

She had been walking some time with Fanny and young Lizzy — the two girls had taken their dolls for an airing, and were just returned to the house intent upon refreshment. The exercise had improved the governess's looks; there was colour in her cheeks, and a brightness in her eye, that had been lacking for some days. She wore a simple day dress of pale pink muslin— her best, put on in respect of Sunday service, and not yet exchanged for another; and her dark hair peeked out from the depths of her bonnet, with all the gloss of a raven's wing. It was commendable, I thought, that she had ventured out-of-doors, despite her fear of meeting with Mr. Sothey; perhaps my warning had served to prepare her, and afforded a measure of strength.

“Miss Sharpe!” my brother cried. “How have you liked your charges today? They are easier to manage, I warrant, when the air is fresh and the sun in good regulation!”