A garden too with scarce a tree,
And waster than a warren;
Yet say the neighbors when they call,
It is not bad but good land,
And in it is the germ of all
That grows within the woodland.
—Tennyson.
The compassion I had been feeling for probable ennui endured by the two who had been left behind at Montrose was quite unnecessary. They had amused themselves very well during my prolonged absence.
“Montrose is better than it looks,” they told me.