Probably it came of an historical fancy that the nook ought to be theirs, combined with the sense that it was not.

But there had been no injury done ab extra: the family had suffered from the inherent moral lack of certain of its individuals.
This sense of away-from-homeness, however, was not strong enough to keep Cosmo from falling into such a dreamful reverie as by degrees naturally terminated in slumber.

Seldom is sleep far from one who lies on his back in the grass, with the sound of waters in his ears.

And indeed a sleep in the open air was almost an essential ingredient of a holiday such as Cosmo had been accustomed to make of his birthday: constantly active as his mind was, perhaps in part because of that activity, he was ready to fall asleep any moment when warm and supine.
When he woke from what seemed a dreamless sleep, his half roused senses were the same moment called upon to render him account of something very extraordinary which they could not themselves immediately lay hold of.

Though the sun was yet some distance above the horizon, it was to him behind one of the hills, as he lay with his head low in the grass; and what could the strange thing be which he saw on the crest of the height before him, on the other side of the water?
Was it a fire in a grate, thinned away by the sunlight?
How could there be a grate where there was neither house nor wall?
Even in heraldry the combination he beheld would have been a strange one.