"Oh, beautiful!" returned Margaret. "If there were but some old oaks about the place: but those ash-trees in the meadow near the copse—those are really splendid, are they not?"
"Very fine! When I was staying here as Mr. Grey's ward, I believe I used to sketch those trees once a week."
"I wish I could sketch!"
"Do you? I have no respect for the arts; I had rather a person should appreciate pictures than paint them."
"But do you not think painting them helps one to appreciate them?"
"I think it teaches one to know the difficulties, but not to feel the sentiment."
"Uncle Grey, do you smell the Chinese honeysuckle?" asked Margaret, pausing before the window.
"Yes my love; it is very strong to-night."
"Are you ready for your tea, uncle?"
"I shall be in about ten minutes, my dear."