I have seen nothing finer.

Just now the flowers were all in bloom, the bees and butterflies had been all drawn there by their odor; the birds were flitting in and out, making grand discoveries in the great boughs; the ground was a carpet of flowers, white daisies and golden buttercups mixed with wild hyacinths and graceful blue-bells.

We drove for some few minutes over this carpet, and then the old gray manor-house stood before us, the prettiest picture ever seen on a summer's day.

The whole front of the house was covered with flowers, and the ivy grew green and thick; it climbed to the very top of the towers.
"Famous ivy," said Lance.

"People come to Dutton to look at the ivy." "I do not wonder at it," I said.
I was somewhat surprised at the style o the house.