I Was Never Hungrier Than On This Evening, And Never, I Think,
Ate A Bigger Or More Enjoyable Meal; Nor
Have I ever ceased to
remember those two with gratitude, and if I were to tell here
what they told
Me - the history of their two lives - I think it
would be a more interesting story than the one I am about to
relate. I stayed a whole week in their hospitable house; a
week which passed only too quickly, for never had I been in a
sweeter haunt of peace than this village in a quiet, green
country remote from towns and stations. It was a small rustic
place, a few old houses and thatched cottages, and the ancient
church with square Norman tower hard to see amid the immense
old oaks and elms that grew all about it. At the end of the
village were the park gates, and the park, a solitary, green
place with noble trees, was my favourite haunt; for there was
no one to forbid me, the squire being dead, the old red
Elizabethan house empty, with only a caretaker in the
gardener's lodge to mind it, and the estate for sale. Three
years it had been in that condition, but nobody seemed to want
it; occasionally some important person came rushing down in a
motor-car, but after running over the house he would come out
and, remarking that it was a "rummy old place," remount his
car and vanish in a cloud of dust to be seen no more.
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