Gryll Grange | Page 9

course, for the doctor had his port, the cook her ale, and the cat
his milk, in sufficiently liberal allowance. In the morning while Mrs.
Opimian found ample occupation in the details of her household duties
and the care of her little family, the doctor, unless he had predestined
the whole day to an excursion, studied in his library. In the afternoon
he walked; in the evening he dined; and after dinner read to his wife
and family, or heard his children read to him. This was his home life.
Now and then he dined out; more frequently than at any other place
with his friend and neighbour, Mr. Gryll, who entirely sympathised
with him in his taste for a good dinner.
Beyond the limits of his ordinary but within those of his occasional
range was a solitary round tower on an eminence backed with wood,
which had probably in old days been a landmark for hunters; but
having in modern days no very obvious use, was designated, as many
such buildings are, by the name of The Folly. The country people
called it 'The Duke's Folly,' though who the Duke in question was
nobody could tell. Tradition had dropped his name.
One fine Midsummer day, with a southerly breeze and a cloudless sky,
the doctor, having taken an early breakfast, in the progress of which he
had considerably reduced the altitude of a round of beef, set out with a
good stick in his hand and a Newfoundland dog at his heels for one of
his longest walks, such as he could only take in the longest days.
Arriving at the Folly, which he had not visited for a long time, he was
surprised to find it enclosed, and having at the back the novelty of a
covered passage, built of the same gray stone as the tower itself. This

passage passed away into the wood at the back, whence was ascending
a wreath of smoke which immediately recalled to him the dwelling of
Circe.{1} Indeed, the change before him had much the air of
enchantment; and the Circean similitude was not a little enhanced by
the antique masonry,{2} and the expanse of sea which was visible from
the eminence. He leaned over the gate, repeated aloud the lines of the
Odyssey, and fell into a brown study, from which he was aroused by the
approach of a young gentleman from within the enclosure.
1 (Greek passage) Od. k 145-152. I climbed a cliff with spear and
sword in hand, Whose ridge o'erlooked a shady length of land: To learn
if aught of mortal works appear, Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the
ear. From the high point I marked, in distant view, A stream of curling
smoke ascending blue, And spiry tops, the tufted trees above, Of
Circe's palace bosomed in the grove. Thither to haste, the region to
explore, Was first my thought. . .
2 (Greek passage) Id. 210, 211.
The palace in a woody vale they found, High-raised of stone, a shaded
space around. Pope.
'I beg your pardon, sir,' said the doctor, 'but my curiosity is excited by
what I see here; and if you do not think it impertinent, and would
inform me how these changes have come about, I should be greatly
obliged.'
'Most willingly, sir,' said the other; 'but if you will walk in, and see
what has been done, the obligation will be mine.'
The doctor readily accepted the proposal. The stranger led the way,
across an open space in the wood, to a circular hall, from each side of
which a wide passage led, on the left hand to the tower, and on the right
to the new building, which was so masked by the wood as not to be
visible except from within the glade. It was a square structure of plain
stone, much in the same style as that of the tower.
The young gentleman took the left-hand passage, and introduced the

doctor to the lower floor of the tower.
'I have divided the tower,' he observed, 'into three rooms: one on each
floor. This is the dining-room; above it is my bedroom; above it again
is my library. The prospect is good from all the floors, but from the
library it is most extensive, as you look over the woods far away into
the open sea.'
'A noble dining-room,' said the doctor. 'The height is well proportioned
to the diameter. That circular table well becomes the form of the room,
and gives promise of a fine prospect in its way.'
'I hope you will favour me by forming a practical judgment on the
point,' said his new acquaintance, as he led the way to the upper floor,
the doctor marvelling at the extreme courtesy with which he was