The Osborns arrived at The Kennel Farm on a lovely rainy morning.

The green of the fields and trees and hedges was sweetly drenched, and the flowers held drops which sparkled when the fitful sun broke forth and searched for the hidden light in them.

A Palstrey carriage comfortably met them and took them to their destination.
As they turned into the lane, Osborn looked out at the red gables and chimneys showing themselves among the trees.
"It's the old place I looked at," he said, "and a jolly old place it is." Hester was drinking in the pure sweetness of the fresh air and filling her soul with the beauty of such things as she had never seen before.

In London she had grown hopeless and sick of spirit.

The lodgings in Duke Street, the perpetual morning haddock and questionable eggs and unpaid bills, had been evil things for her.