Jean's eyes were busy. Three casement windows looked out over valleys and woods, and the river dashed over granite boulders below. As she leant out of one window which was framed with creepers, a deep crimson rose touched her cheek, and the scent of the honeysuckle from below filled the air with its fragrance.
"It is perfect," she said. "May I use this room?"
"Of course. You are going to paint it, are you not? I often wish I could paint. I think I am better with my pen than with my brush. I wrote a little story about this room when we first came here. You know the place is called King's-ford, because Charles I forded the river during the Civil Wars. It is easy to make up a nice little tale about this house being his refuge for the time. It belonged to some Hollingsworths long, long ago. I am sure the name sounds loyal, does it not? There is Barbara calling; I must go, for I have a good hour's work in the dairy. We have supper at half-past eight. Your trunk has been carried up to your room, and you will find Barbara downstairs if you want anything."
She ran out of the room, singing in a fresh young voice—
"Should one of us remember
And one of us forget,
I wish I knew what each will do—
But who can tell as yet?"
Jean pulled a chair up to the window and sat down. She wanted quiet, for she wanted to think.
The quaint old-fashioned room, the scent of the climbing roses, the sleepy chirps of the birds outside as they prepared to retire to rest, all seemed like some delicious dream. She could hardly believe that that very morning, she had been in the midst of the roar and bustle of London. And more serious thoughts took possession of her as she sat at that window—thoughts that made her at last murmur to herself:
"This has been a day of great beginnings."
She did not go downstairs till the supper bell rang, and then she found every one in a pleasant, talkative mood. Conversation was not wholly on farming; Barbara, Jean found, knew London well, and had plenty to say on art and literature.
"My first visit was when I was quite a young girl," she explained. "I used to stay with an old uncle and aunt. They did not go out themselves, and never entertained, but they sent me to every museum and picture gallery in town, and very often to a good concert. I learnt a good deal whilst with them."