ink of the happy hours one has spent on balconies in
Switzerland and Italy! To have been in a room without one would have
been to lose half the joy. And even in England--think of all the things
one can do on a balcony of one's very own. Sleep out when it is hot.
Air your mattress. Hang up your sponge. Grow your pet flowers. Dry
your hair. Cry it out quietly when you feel blue. Sentimentalise over
the railings when you feel _rose_."

Charmion's fine brows arched, her lids drooped over her eyes. I
recognised the same expression which her face had worn the night before,
when for a moment I had seemed on the point of questioning her about her
own romance. Once more I felt myself up against an impenetrable wall of
reserve, and hastily switched the conversation to the more prosaic topic
of cupboards. The very sound of a balcony bristles with romance, but
cupboards may be discussed with safety under the most lacerating
circumstances. There is something comfortably safe and stodgy about
them. And Pastimes was so rich in this respect that we spent a happy
half-hour appointing their future uses, and jotting down notes for their
improvement.

Later on we visited the gardens, beautiful even in their sleep, and
promising a very paradise for summer days. The lawns and flower beds
immediately around the house were exquisitely in order, but by far the
greater part of the grounds was uncultivated. There was a strip of
_real_ woodland, where the light filtered down through the branches of
tall old trees on to a carpet of dried leaves and bracken, through which
could be seen the close-growing green shoots which foretold a harvest of
bulbs. Later on no doubt there would be primroses and bluebells, and
when summer came, if I knew anything about it, there would be two
hammocks swinging between spreading branches, and two happy women
reposing therein. It was this _real_ country air which gave Pastimes
its chief charm.

That evening Charmion came to my room, and we sat together by the fire
and talked for three solid hours. As a rule, I get fidgety in the
evening when talk is the only amusement, but I can sit and listen to
Charmion for as long as she chooses to go on. She is--interesting! She
says things in an interesting way, and has interesting things to say. I
have met extraordinarily clever and well-informed people who are
terrible bores. Charmion would be interesting if she told one how to
make an egg flip! As I w