Chapter Four.
She awoke early and sprang up at once, fresh as the morning itself, and when she went to the window all her ambitions rushed to the front. What were people compared with those green masses in which she read promise of fame? An old place, with magnificent growth of timber, lay before her bathed in the serenity of a young day. From the lower ground a thin white mist was drifting with filmy nothingness, but the softly swelling uplands lay in beautifully rounded outlines against a clear sky, touched by a delicate sunshine, and here and there broken by depths of cool shade. Claudia looked, and drew a long breath of delight, then dressed rapidly, and was out in the park before any of the windows in the front of the house were unsealed. She glanced rapidly round her. A French garden, still in shadow, lay on the side of the house, but elsewhere only grass and trees, splendid trees, met her view. So far as she could see, chestnuts and limes predominated, although contrasts were not wanting in fir and cedar. One with the other they grew in stately order, evidently cared for, so far that there was scarcely any crowding, and the big limbs had full play and sweep. Claudia’s first impression of entire satisfaction had, by the time she had plunged into some of the leafy intricacies, given way to more complicated criticism. She walked briskly, so as to acquaint herself with the lie of the ground, and pulling out a note-book and pencil as she walked, fell to jotting down possible improvements, chiefly with a view to obtaining distant effects. Time passed rapidly in this congenial occupation, until she heard voices close at hand, and looking up, saw Harry Hilton, a keeper, and many dogs. Harry at once made for her, and Claudia closed her book with an ungrateful sigh, considering that it was he who had obtained for her this splendid opportunity for renown.
“This is most surprising!” he called out joyously.
“Why?” asked Claudia as crossly.
“I thought I had heard you protest against early rising?”
“At Elmslie. I dare say. What was there to do at Elmslie? Every square inch was occupied by somebody.”
He laughed. “So it is, when one comes to think of it. I’m a lazy chap, and I suppose I don’t mind.”
“I suppose you don’t. I can’t conceive how you can bury yourself here and there, and not do anything bigger in the world,” said Claudia, looking at him meditatively. Her tone only expressed wonder, but his face fell.