park ground grew more exceeding. All
that a most noble growth of trees could show, scattered and grouped,
all that a most lovely undulation of ground surface could give, in
slope and vista and broken light and shadow, was gilded here and there
with vivid gold, or filled elsewhere with a sunny, misty glow of
vapourous rays, as if the air were streaming with gold dust among the
trees. All tints and hues of greensward, moss, and fern, under all
conditions of illumination, met their wondering eyes; and for a while
there was little spoken but exclamations of delight and discussion of
beautiful effects that came under review. They went on so, from point
to point, by much the same way that Dolly had taken on her first visit
to the park; till they came out as she had done from the thinner part
of the woodland, and stood at the edge of the wide plain of open
greensward which stretched on up to the House. Here they stood still.
The low sun was shining over it all; the great groups of oaks and elms
stood in full revealed beauty and majesty; and in the distance the
House looked superbly down over the whole.

"There is hardly anything about Brierley that I like better than this,"
said Dolly. "Isn't it lovely? I always delight in this great slope of
wavy green ground; and see how it is emphasised and set off by those
magnificent trees? And the House looks better from nowhere than from
here."

"It is very noble--it is exceeding beautiful," Mr. Shubrick assented.

"Now this, I suppose, one could not see in America," Dolly went on;
"nor anything like it."

"America has its own beauties; doubtless nothing like this. There is
the dignity of many generations here. But, Miss Dolly, as I said
before,--it would be difficult to use all this for Christ."

"I do not see how it could be done," said Dolly. "Mr. Shubrick, I
happen to know, it takes seven or eight thousand a year--or more--to
keep the place up. Pounds sterling, I mean; not dollars. Merely to keep
the establishment up and in order."

"And yet, if I were its owner, I should find it hard to give up these
ancestral acres and trees, or to cease to take care of them. I am glad
I am a poor man!"

"Give them up?" said Dolly. "Do you think _that_ would be duty?"

"I do not know. How could I take seven or eight thousand pounds a year
just to keep up all this magnificence, when the money is so wanted for
the Lord's work, in so many ways? When it would do such great things,
given to H