She seated herself by the window listening with rapture in her eyes. The woman of the house brought in our coffee, but I doubt if we should have got any breakfast, only the cuckoos wanted theirs and fortunately flew off to get it.
When the glorious musical bell rang out far on the other side of the wood, dimmed by distance, Viola came reluctantly to the table.
"How delicious this is! this being in the country just at first. Look at the table with its jonquils! isn't it pretty? Look at the honey and cream!"
"I think you had better eat some of it," I answered; "or at least pour out the coffee."
Viola laughed and did so, and we breakfasted joyously, full of the curious gayety that belongs to novelty alone.
Then we went out, and the outside was equally entrancing. The scent of the lilac seemed to hang like a canopy in the air under which we walked. There was a fat thrush on the lawn, young and tailless. The sight of him and the dappled marks on his white breast gave me a strange pleasure.
We sat down on the turf finally where the cherry-tree cast a light shade, a sort of white shadow in the sunlight, from its blossoms. Viola thrust her hands down into the cool, green grass.
"How lovely this is," she said, looking up the tall tree above us. "Look at its great tent of white blossoms against the blue sky; it's like a picture of Japan!"
After a time, when we were tired of the garden, we went out and turned down the white road to explore the country.
It was very hot, and the glare from the road excessive, but as it was all new to us it all seemed delightful, even to the white dust that coated our lips and got into our eyes whenever the breeze stirred.