rius, to Bursley in general, it was just a nice house, of red
brick with terra-cotta facings and red tiles, in the second-Victorian
Style, the style that had broken away from Georgian austerity and
first-Victorian stucco and smugness, and wandered off vaguely into
nothing in particular. To the plebeian in Darius it was of course
grandiose, and vast; to Edwin also, in a less degree. But to Edwin it
was not a house, it was a work of art, it was an epic poem, it was an
emanation of the soul. He did not realise this. He did not realise how
the house had informed his daily existence. All that he knew about
himself in relation to the house was that he could not keep away from
it. He went and had a look at it, nearly every morning before
breakfast, when the workmen were fresh and lyrical.

When the news came down to the younger generation that Darius had bought
land and meant to build on the land, Edwin had been profoundly moved
between apprehension and hope; his condition had been one of simple but
intense expectant excitement. He wondered what his own status would be
in the great enterprise of house-building. All depended on Mr
Orgreave. Would Mr Orgreave, of whom he had seen scarcely anything in
seven years, remember that he was intelligently interested in
architecture? Or would Mr Orgreave walk right over him and talk
exclusively to his father? He had feared, he had had a suspicion, that
Mr Orgreave was an inconstant man.

Mr Orgreave had remembered in the handsomest way. When the plans were
being discussed, Mr Orgreave with one word, a tone, a glance, had
raised Edwin to the consultative level of his father. He had let Darius
see that Edwin was in his opinion worthy to take part in discussions,
and quite privately he had let Edwin see that Darius must not be treated
too seriously. Darius, who really had no interest in ten thousand
exquisitely absorbing details, had sometimes even said, with impatience,
"Oh! Settle it how you like, with Edwin."

Edwin's own suggestions never seemed very brilliant, and Mr Orgreave
was always able to prove to him that they were inadvisable; but they
were never silly, like most of his father's. And he acquired leading
ideas that transformed his whole attitude towards architecture. For
example, he had always looked on a house as a front-wall diversified by
doors and windows, with rooms behind it. But when Mr Orgreave produced
his first notions for the new house Edwin was su