The gardener opened a wicket, after passing the deep, shady nook, and said, "This is Mr. Wordsworth's garden." I looked about and saw troops of flowers, and sought for the white fox-glove, which was a favorite of his, and found it; and the air was loaded with a fine perfume, which I discovered to be from large beds of mignonette. In those paths he walked and watched and tended his plants and shrubs. Presently, after so much mounting of steps, and threading of embowered paths and lanes of flowers, we were ushered into the grounds immediately around the actual house. And the man first took us upon that memorable terraced lawn, in great part made by Wordsworth's own hands. It is circular, and the turf, like thick-piled velvet, yielding to the feet and of delicious green--smooth and soft. Perhaps it is thirty feet in diameter, and double, with a very high step. Beneath it is a gravel walk, and then a hedge of thick shrubs. Julian flung himself at full length on the velvet sward, and Mr. Hawthorne and I sat down on the even tops of two stumps of trees, evidently intended for seats, as one meets them everywhere, arranged for that purpose. But how am I to tell you what I saw from them? Wordsworth must have described it somewhere. It was his beloved view. Richer could not have been the Vale of Cashmere. The mountains take most picturesque forms, and after throwing against the sky bold and grand outlines, they so softly curve down into the lovely dells that they seemed doing homage to beauty, lordly and gentle. And far away at the end of the valley, Windermere, Queen of the Lakes, reposed, gleaming silvery blue. This fair, open eye completed the picture. In that was the soul revealed. I wished I had had my sketch-book to draw just the outlines, but was not too sorry, because I intended to go again, and then I would have it. Now I was content to gaze alone. The attractions of London are fully admitted by Mrs. Hawthorne, in various letters, from which I gather these sentences:-- "At last I have found myself in London society. I suppose Ellen and Mary [her nieces] would like to know what I wore on one occasion. I had on a sky-blue glace silk, with three flounces, which were embroidered with white floss, making a very silvery shine. The dress had low neck and short sleeves; but I wore a jacket of starred blonde with flowing sleeves; and had round me also a shawl of Madeira lace, which, though very airy, fleecy, and cloud-looking, is warm and soft. My headdress was pearl, in the shape of bunches of grapes and leaves, mingled with blue ribbon, with a wreath of pearl-traced leaves round my hair, which was rolled in coronet fashion. Was not that a pretty dress?