The tree, laughed and shook out its finery at
me like a woman, saying: "See how green I am, after Sunday's
rain." Antoinette's one eyed black cat (a hideous beast) met me
in the hall and arching its back welcomed me affably to its new
residence. And on my breakfast-table I found a copy of the first
edition of Cristoforo da Costa's "_Elogi delle Donne Illustri_,"
a book which, in great diffidence, I had asked Lord Carnforth, a
perfect stranger, to allow me the privilege of consulting in his
library, and which Lord Carnforth, with a scholar's splendid
courtesy, had sent me to use at my convenience.
Filled with peace and good-will to all men, like a
personification of Christmas in May, I started out this morning
to see my lawyers. I reached them at three o'clock, having idled
at second-hand bookstalls and lunched on the road. I signed
their unintelligible document, and wandered through the Temple
Gardens and along the Embankment. When I had passed under
Hungerford Bridge, it struck me that I was warm, a little leg-
weary, and the Victoria Embankment Gardens smiled an invitation
to repose.
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