Your own home, Robin--that's
the type of antique beauty that's come to seem to me more desirable than
any other. Isn't there one along here somewhere that reminds one of it?"
"There's the General Armitage place," Roberta said. "That must be close
by, now. It used to be far out in the country. It was built by the same
architect who built ours. General Armitage and my great-grandfather were
intimate friends--they were in the Civil War together."
"Here it is." Ruth pointed it out eagerly. "I always like to go by it,
because it looks quite a little like ours, only the grounds are much
larger, and it has a wonderful old garden behind it. Mother has often
said she wished she could transplant the Armitage garden bodily, now
that the house has been closed so long. She says the old gardener is
still here, and looks after the garden--or his grandsons do."
"Shall we drive in and see it?" proposed Richard. "A garden like that
ought to have some one to admire it now and then."
He gave the order, and the car rolled in through the old stone gateway.
The place, though of a noble old type, was far from a pretentious one,
and there was no lodge at the gate, as with most of its neighbours.
Pages:
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393