Page:Emma Speed Sampson--The shorn lamb.djvu/95

Rh all of his predecessors in the choice of paint. The last coat that had been applied was a green that warred with the pink of the old brick and refused to be reconciled with any of the greens of Nature. In many places the paint had peeled off, disclosing the taste of former possessors, here a patch of dismal brown, there a bit of faded tan. In several places a splotch of gleaming white cried out as from the grave of better days.

The grounds, which had been as well laid out as any in the Old Dominion, had suffered from neglect and ill treatment even more than the mansion. The yard of ten acres was enclosed by a mock-orange hedge which had not been clipped within the memory of the oldest inhabitant of the county, and had in consequence grown into a row of straggling trees, thorny and uncouth, but held in high favor by the birds, who could build there with impunity, the spiky branches offering protection against marauding cats and snakes. The rolling lawn had been ploughed and planted in potatoes. A small grass plot had been left around the house, not for beauty's sake but because it gave turning room for the plough horses.

The western part of the lawn was traversed by a gurgling brook which had been the delight