Paradise Garden | Page 5

on the twelfth of December to Greene County
in the Ballard limousine. A rigorous watch was kept upon the walls of
Horsham Manor, and in response to the ring of the chauffeur at the
solid wooden gates at the lodge, a small window opened and a red
visage appeared demanding credentials. Ballard put the inquisitor to
some pains, testing his efficiency, but finally produced his card and
revealed his identity, after which the gates flew open and we entered
the forbidden ground.
It was an idyllic spot, as I soon discovered, of fine rolling country, well
wooded and watered, the road of macadam, rising slowly from the
entrance gates, turning here and there through a succession of natural
parks, along the borders of a lake of considerable size, toward the
higher hills at the further end of the estate, among which, my
companion told me, were built the Manor house and stables. Except for
the excellent road itself, no attempt had been made to use the art of the
landscape gardener in the lower portion of the tract, which had been left
as nature had made it, venerable woodland, with a well-tangled
undergrowth, where rabbits, squirrels and deer abounded, but as we
neared the hills, which rose with considerable dignity against the pale,
wintry sky, the signs of man's handiwork became apparent. A hedge
here, a path there, bordered with privet or rhododendron; a comfortable
looking farmhouse, commodious barns and well-fenced pastures, where
we passed a few men who touched their caps and stared after us.
"It's lucky you care nothing for women, Canby," said Mr. Ballard
crisply; "this monastic idea may not bother you."
"It doesn't in the least, Mr. Ballard," I said dryly. "I shall survive the
ordeal with composure."
He glanced at me, smiled and then went on.
"Except for the presence of Miss Redwood, who goes today, the new
regulation has been in force here for a month. The farmers and
gamekeepers are all bachelors. We have an excellent steward, also a

bachelor. You and he will understand each other. In all things that
pertain to the boy he is under your orders. Questions of authority where
you differ are to be referred to me."
"I understand. I am not difficult to get on with."
My employer had described to me thoroughly but quite impersonally
all the conditions of his trust and mine, but had made no comments
which by the widest stretch of imagination could be construed into
opinions. He gave me the impression then as he did later that he was
carrying out strictly the letter of his instructions from the dead. He had
a face graven into austere lines, which habit had schooled into perfect
obedience to his will. He might have believed the experiment to which
he was committed a colossal joke, and no sign of his opinion would be
reflected in his facial expression, which was, save on unimportant
matters, absolutely unchanging. Nor did he seem to care what my own
thoughts might be in regard to the matter, though I had not refrained
from expressing my interest in the project. My character, my reputation
for conscientiousness, my qualifications for the position were all that
seemed to concern him. I was merely a piece of machinery, the wheels
of which he was to set in motion, which would perform its allotted task
to his satisfaction.
The road soon reached an eminence from which Horsham Manor was
visible, a fine Georgian house set handsomely enough in a cleft of the
hills, before which were broad lawns that sloped to the south and
terminated at the borders of a stream which meandered through a rocky
bed to the lake below. Wealth such as this had never awed me. John
Benham with all his stores of dollars had been obliged to come at last
to a penurious philosopher to solve for his son the problem of life that
had baffled the father. So intent was I upon the house which was to be
my home that I caught but a glimpse of the fine valley of meadow and
wood which ended in the faint purplish hills, beyond which somewhere
was the Hudson River.
It was evident that our arrival had been telephoned from the lodge at
the gate, for as the machine drew up at the main doorway of the house a
servant in livery appeared and opened the door.

"Ah, Christopher," said my companion. "Is Mr. Radford about?"
"Yes, sir. He'll be up in a minute, sir."
"This is Mr. Canby, Christopher, Master Jeremiah's new tutor."
"Yes, sir, you'll find Miss Redwood and Master Jerry in the library."
We went up the steps while the aged butler (who had lived with John
Benham) followed with the valises, and were ushered into the library,
where my