“Oh no, very far from it. He wasn’t anything in the least orthodox. If you could have known him!” Ruth laughed a little. “But he had some queer religion of his own. He believed in Beauty, and that it was a revelation of something very great and wonderful, beyond the wildest dreams of a crassly ignorant and blind humanity. That glass vase was his. Have you noticed the wonderful shape of it? And look now with the light shining through. Do you think it is a shame to put flowers in it? But their scent is the incense on the altar.” “Oh, that’s the idea, is it?” said North. He spoke very gently, as one would to a child showing you its treasures. “This place is full of altars,” said Ruth, her eyes looking west. “Do you know the drive in the little spinney? All one broad blue path of hyacinths, and white may trees on either side.” “Oh, that’s the idea, is it?” said North. He in his voice—“you mean Dick’s ‘Pathway to Heaven’!” “Did he call it that?” “He said it was so blue it must be.” “Yes, and it seems to vanish into space between the trees.” “As I must,” said North. “I have paid you an unwarrantable visitation, and I shall only just get home now before lighting-up time.” “You will come again?” said Ruth as they went down the garden. “I want to show you the site for my cottages. I _think_ it is the right one.” “Cottages?” “Yes, I am going to build three. My lawyer tells me it is economically an unsound investment. My conscience tells me it has got to be done, if I am to enjoy Thorpe properly. Two couples are waiting to be married until the cottages are ready, and one man is working here and his wife living in London because there is no possible place for them. I am giving him a room here at present.” North raised his eyebrows. “Do you take in anybody promiscuously who comes along?” he asked. “Well, this man went through four years of the war. Was a sergeant, and holds the Mons Medal and the D.C.M. He is a painter by trade, and worked for Baxter, who is putting up a billiard-room and a garage at Mentmore Court.” “Mentmore Court?” North looked across at the big white house on the hill. “Why, there is a billiard-room and a garage there already.” “I believe they are turning the existing billiard-room into a winter garden, or something of that sort. And they have six cars, so the present garage is not big enough.” “Your cottages will probably be of more use to the country,” said North. “I hear he made his money in leather, and his name is Pithey. Do you know him?” “Well, he took a ‘fancy’ to my Shorthorns, and walked in last week to ask if I’d sell. Price was no object. He fancied them. Then he took a fancy to some of the furniture and offered to buy that, and finally he said if I was open to take ‘a profit on my deal’ over the farm, he was prepared to go to a fancy price for it.” North stopped and looked at her. “Are you making it up?” he asked. Ruth bubbled over into an irrepressible laugh.