The house stood on a kind of terrace, and lawn, and patches of flowers and shrubs sloped away from it down into quite a dell.
"Old gravel, pits," said Mr Solomon, noticing the way I gazed about the place.

"Come along." He walked up to a great thick yew hedge with an archway of deep green in it, and as soon as we were through he said shortly: "Useful." I stared with wonder, for though I was now in a fruit and vegetable garden it was wonderfully different to Old Brownsmith's, for here, in addition to exquisite neatness, there was some attempt at ornamentation.
As soon as we had passed under the green arch we were on a great grass walk, beautifully soft and velvety, with here and there stone seats, and a group of stone figures at the farther end.

Right and left were abundance of old-fashioned flowers, but in addition there were neatly trained and trimmed fruit-trees by the hundred, not allowed to grow high like ours, but tied down as espaliers, and full of the promise of fruit.
Away right and left I could see great red brick walls covered with more fruit-trees spread out like fans, or with one big stem going straight up and the branches trained right and left in straight lines.
Everywhere the garden was a scene of abundance: great asparagus beds, trim and well-kept rows of peas laden with pods, scarlet-runners running at a tremendous rate up sticks; and lower down, quite an orchard of big pyramid pear and apple trees.
"Like it ?" said Mr Solomon, watching me narrowly.
"I can't tell you how much, sir!" I cried excitedly.

"I never thought to see such a garden as this." "Ain't half seen it yet," he replied.

"Come and see the glass." He led me towards where I could see ranges of glass houses, looking white and shining amongst the trees, and as we went on he pointed to different plots of vegetables and other objects of interest.
"Pump and well," he said.