They were in the private gardens at Blenheim. The sun was brilliant over the ornate and yet picturesque scene.
“Beautiful, is it not?” exclaimed Lothair.
“Yes, certainly beautiful,” said Theodora. “But, do you know, I do not feel altogether content in these fine gardens? The principle of exclusion on which they are all founded is to me depressing. I require in all things sympathy. You would not agree with me in this. The manners of your country are founded on exclusion.”
“But, surely, there are times and places when one would like to be alone.”
“Without doubt,” said the lady; “only I do not like artificial loneliness. Even your parks, which all the world praises, do not quite satisfy me. I prefer a forest where all may go—even the wild beasts.”
“But forests are not at command,” said Lothair.
“So you make a solitude and call it peace,” said the lady, with a slight smile. “For my part, my perfect life would be a large and beautiful village. I admire Nature, but I require the presence of humanity. Life in great cities is too exhausting; but in my village there should be air, streams, and beautiful trees, a picturesque scene, but enough of my fellow-creatures to insure constant duty.”
“But the fulfilment of duty and society, founded on what you call the principle of exclusion, are not incompatible,” said Lothair.
“No, but difficult. What should be natural becomes an art; and in every art it is only the few who can be first rate.”
“I have an ambition to be a first-rate artist in that respect,” said Lothair, thoughtfully.