hat you cannot be interested in gardens under an umbrella. So I
went back to the fogs, and after groping about for a few days more began
to long inordinately for Germany. A terrific gale sprang up after I had
started, and the journey both by sea and land was full of horrors, the
trains in Germany being heated to such an extent that it is next to
impossible to sit still, great gusts of hot air coming up under the
cushions, the cushions themselves being very hot, and the wretched
traveller still hotter.

But when I reached my home and got out of the train into the purest,
brightest snow-atmosphere, the air so still that the whole world seemed
to be listening, the sky cloudless, the crisp snow sparkling underfoot
and on the trees, and a happy row of three beaming babies awaiting me, I
was consoled for all my torments, only remembering them enough to wonder
why I had gone away at all.

The babies each had a kitten in one hand and an elegant bouquet of pine
needles and grass in the other, and what with the due presentation of
the bouquets and the struggles of the kittens, the hugging and kissing
was much interfered with. Kittens, bouquets, and babies were all somehow
squeezed into the sleigh, and off we went with jingling bells and
shrieks of delight. "Directly you comes home the fun begins," said the
May baby, sitting very close to me. "How the snow purrs!" cried the
April baby, as the horses scrunched it up with their feet. The June baby
sat loudly singing "The King of Love my Shepherd is," and swinging her
kitten round by its tail to emphasise the rhythm.

The house, half-buried in the snow, looked the very abode of peace, and
I ran through all the rooms, eager to take possession of them again, and
feeling as though I had been away for ever. When I got to the library I
came to a standstill,--ah, the dear room, what happy times I have spent
in it rummaging amongst the books, making plans for my garden, building
castles in the air, writing, dreaming, doing nothing! There was a big
peat fire blazing half up the chimney, and the old housekeeper had put
pots of flowers about, and on the writing-table was a great bunch of
violets scenting the room. "Oh, how good it is to be home again!" I
sighed in my satisfaction. The babies clung about my knees, looking up
at me with eyes full of love. Outside the dazzling snow and sunshine,
inside the bright room and happy faces--I thought of those yellow fogs
and shivered. The library is