raspberry and gooseberry bushes spread; and here, too, appeared a few
apple-trees, a bed of herbs, a patch of onions, purple cabbages, and a
giant hollyhock with sulphur-coloured blossoms that thrust his proud
head upwards, a gentleman at large, and the practical countrymen of the
kitchen-garden. The mill and outbuildings, the homestead and wood-stacks
embraced a whole gamut of fine colour, ranging from the tawny and
crimson of fretted brick and tile to varied greys of drying timber; from
the cushions and pillows of moss and embroidery of houseleeks and
valerian, that had flourished for fifty years on a ruined shippen, to
the silver gleam of old thatches and the shining gold of new. Nor was
the white face of the dwelling-house amiss. Only one cold, crude eye
stared out from this time-tinctured scene; only one raw pentroof of
corrugated iron blotted it, made poets sigh, artists swear, and Miller
Lyddon contemplate more of the same upon his land.

A clucking and grunting concourse of fowls and pigs shared the farmyard;
blue pigeons claimed the roof; and now, in the westering light, with
slow foot, sweet breath, and swelling udder, many kine, red as the ripe
horse-chestnut, followed each other across the ford, assembled
themselves together and lowed musically to the milkers. Phoebe Lyddon
and John Grimbal still stood at the farm-gate, and they watched, as a
boy and an aged man came forward with buckets and stools. Then, to the
muffled thud of the water-wheel and the drone and murmur of the river,
was added a purr of milk, foaming into tin pails, and sharp, thin
monitions from the ancient, as he called the cows by their names and bid
them be still.

In John Grimbal, newly come from South Africa, this scene awakened a
lively satisfaction and delight. It told him that he was home again; and
so did the girl, though it seemed absurd to think that Phoebe had ever
sat upon his knee and heard his big stories, when as yet he himself was
a boy and the world still spread before him unconquered. He mused at the
change and looked forward to bringing himself and his success in life
before those who had known him in the past. He very well remembered who
had encouraged his ambitions and spoken words of kindness and of hope;
who also had sneered, criticised his designs unfavourably, and thrown
cold water upon his projects. John Grimbal meant to make certain souls
smart as he had smarted; but he feared his brother a little in this
connec