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235
The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft
·
George Gissing
180
XXV.
Yesterday
I
passed
by
an
elm
avenue,
leading
to
a
beautiful
old
house.
The
road
between
the
trees
was
covered
in
all
its
length
and
breadth
with
fallen
leaves--a
carpet
of
pale
gold.
Further
on,
I
came
to
a
plantation,
mostly
of
larches;
it
shone
in
the
richest
aureate
hue,
with
here
and
there
a
splash
of
blood-red,
which
was
a
young
beech
in
its
moment
of
autumnal
glory.
I
looked
at
an
alder,
laden
with
brown
catkins,
its
blunt
foliage
stained
with
innumerable
shades
of
lovely
colour.
Near
it
was
a
horse-chestnut,
with
but
a
few
leaves
hanging
on
its
branches,
and
those
a
deep
orange.
The
limes,
I
see,
are
already
bare.
To-night
the
wind
is
loud,
and
rain
dashes
against
my
casement;
to-morrow
I
shall
awake
to
a
sky
of
winter.
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