Page:Alice Lauder.pdf/81

“‘No, no, run away and leave me. Neuralgia knows no law, and our chattering makes it worse. Adieu, and make my compliments to our friends in Green Street. I hope to see them some day soon, when I am strong enough. A bien-tôt!’

“It was a mild cloudy afternoon when I set out. The wind had fallen, after blowing hard all the morning, and following that loud battle of wind and forest there was something very soothing in the calm repose, almost lassitude, of nature. The stillness was perfect; you could hear a pin drop in the woods. My path led up a slope of hill, and below I could see a stretch of growing corn, all in moving shades of green, shot with silver, for it is just on the turn of ripening. Sometimes a tremor seizes the whole field, and the silvery surface crinkles up in thick solid ripples, as when one draws a skimmer round a pan of scalded cream. Half-way up the hill there is a sort of natural terrace, caused by a landslip long ago, and in the middle of this shelf there is a strong young English oak of perhaps thirty, or even forty years of age, just rising into his sunshiny half century. He is a fine young tree, with thick foliage- clusters round his outstretching limbs, and I can put my arm in a friendly way almost round his waist.