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192
The House in Good Taste
·
Elsie De Wolfe
178
So
formal
is
the
tapis
vert,
with
its
blossoming
borders
of
larkspur
and
daisies
and
its
tall
standard
roses,
you
are
surprised
to
find
that
that
part
of
the
garden
outside
this
prim
rectangle
has
mysteries.
There
are
winding
paths
that
terminate
in
marble
seats.
There
is
the
pavilion,
a
little
house
built
for
outdoor
musicales,
with
electric
connections
that
make
breakfast
and
tea
possible
here.
There
is
the
guest
house,
and
the
motor
house--quite
as
interesting
as
any
other
part
of
the
garden.
And
everywhere
there
are
blue
and
white
and
rose-colored
flowers,
planted
in
great
masses
against
the
black-green
evergreens.
We
leave
America
early
in
June,
tired
out
with
the
breathless
business
of
living,
and
find
ourselves
in
our
old-world
house
and
garden.
We
fall
asleep
to
the
accompaniment
of
the
tiny
piping
of
the
little
people
in
bur
garden.
We
awake
to
the
matins
of
the
birds.
We
breakfast
on
the
stone
terrace,
with
boughs
of
trees
and
clouds
for
our
roof,
and
as
we
look
out
over
the
masses
of
blue
flowers
and
the
smooth
green
tapis
vert,
over
the
arched
trelliage
with
its
fountains
and
its
marbles,
the
great
trees
back
of
our
domain
frame
the
supremely
beautiful
towers
of
the
Château
le
Magnificent,
and
we
are
far
happier
than
anyone
deserves
to
be
in
this
wicked
world!
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