AllsortsofthingscametotheHardinghamandofferedthemselvestomyuncle。Gordon-Nasmythstandsbutonlybecauseheplayedapartatlastinthecrisisofourfortunes。Somuchcametousthatitseemedtomeattimesasthoughthewholeworldofhumanaffairswasreadytoprostituteitselftoourrealandimaginarymillions。AsIlookback，Iamstilldazzledandincreduloustothinkofthequalityofouropportunities。
Wedidthemostextraordinarythings；thingsthatitseemsabsurdtometoleavetoanycasualmanofwealthandenterprisewhocarestodothem。Ihadsomeamazingperceptionsofjusthowmodernthoughtandthesupplyoffacttothegeneralmindmaybecontrolledbymoney。Amongotherthingsthatmyuncleofferedfor，hetriedveryhardtobuytheBritishMedicalJournalandtheLancet，andrunthemonwhathecalledmodernlines，andwhentheyresistedhimhetalkedveryvigorouslyforatimeoforganisingarivalenterprise。Thatwasaverymagnificentideaindeedinitsway；itwouldhavegivenatremendousadvantageinthehandlingofinnumerablespecialtiesandindeedIscarcelyknowhowfaritwouldnothaveputthemedicalprofessioninourgrip。Itstillamazesme——Ishalldieamazed——thatsuchathingcanbepossibleinthemodernstate。Ifmyunclefailedtobringthethingoff，someoneelsemaysucceed。ButIdoubt，evenifhehadgotboththeseweeklies，whetherhispeculiarstylewouldhavesuitedthem。Thechangeofpurposewouldhaveshown。Hewouldhavefounditdifficulttokeepuptheirdignity。
HecertainlydidnotkeepupthedignityoftheSacredGrove，animportantcriticalorganwhichheacquiredoneday——bysaying“snap“——foreighthundredpounds。Hegotit“lock，stockandbarrel“——underoneorotherofwhichthreeaspectstheeditorwasincluded。Evenatthatpriceitdidn’tpay。IfyouarealiterarypersonyouwillrememberthebrightnewcoverhegavethatrepresentativeorganofBritishintellectualculture，andhowhissoundbusinessinstinctsjarredwiththeexaltedpretensionsofavanishingage。OneoldwrapperIdiscoveredtheotherdayruns：——
AHithertoUnpublishedLetterfromWalterPater。
CharlotteBronte’sMaternalGreatAunt。
ANewCatholicHistoryofEngland。
TheGeniusofShakespeare。
Correspondence：——TheMendelianHypothesis；TheSplitInfinitive；
“Commence。”or“Begin；“Claverhouse；SocialismandtheIndividual；TheDignityofLetters。
Folk-loreGossip。
TheStage；theParadoxofActing。
TravelBiography，Verse，Fiction，etc。
IsupposeitissomelingeringtracesoftheBladesovertraditiontomethatmakesthiscombinationoflettersandpillsseemsoincongruous，justasIsupposeitisalingeringtraceofPlutarchandmyineradicableboyishimaginationthatatbottomourStateshouldbewise，saneanddignified，thatmakesmethinkacountrywhichleavesitsmedicalandliterarycriticism，orindeedanysuchvitallyimportantcriticism，entirelytoprivateenterpriseandopentotheadvancesofanypurchasermustbeinafranklyhopelesscondition。Theseareidealconceptionsofmine。
Asamatteroffact，nothingwouldbemoreentirelynaturalandrepresentativeoftherelationsoflearning，thoughtandtheeconomicsituationintheworldatthepresenttimethanthiscoveroftheSacredGrove——thequietconservatismoftheoneelementembeddedintheaggressivebrillianceoftheother；thecontrastednotesofboldphysiologicalexperimentandextremementalimmobility。
Therecomesback，too，amongtheseHardinghammemories，animpressionofadrizzlingNovemberday，andhowwelookedoutofthewindowsuponaprocessionoftheLondonunemployed。
Itwaslikelookingdownawellintosomemomentarilyrevealednetherworld。SomethousandsofneedyineffectualmenhadbeenrakedtogethertotrailtheirspiritlessmiserythroughtheWestEirewithanappealthatwasalsoinitswayaweakandinsubstantialthreat：“ItisWorkweneed，notCharity。”
Theretheywere，half-phantomthroughthefog，asilent，foot-dragging，interminable，greyprocession。Theycarriedwet，dirtybanners，theyrattledboxesforpence；thesemenwhohadnotsaid“snap“intherightplace，themenwhohad“snapped“tooeagerly，themenwhohadneversaid“snap。”themenwhohadneverhadachanceofsaying“snap。”Ashambling，shamefulstreamtheymade，oozingalongthestreet，thegutterwasteofcompetitivecivilisation。Andwestoodhighoutofitall，ashighasifwelookedgodlikefromanotherworld，standinginaroombeautifullylitandfurnished，skillfullywarmed，filledwithcostlythings。
“There。”thoughtI，“butforthegraceofGod，goGeorgeandEdwardPonderevo。”
Butmyuncle’sthoughtsraninadifferentchannel，andhemadethatvisionthetestofaspiritedbutinconclusiveharangueuponTariffReform。
Sofarmyhistoryofmyauntandunclehasdealtchieflywithhisindustrialandfinancialexploits。Butsidebysidewiththathistoryofinflationfromtheinfinitesimaltotheimmenseisanotherdevelopment，thechangeyearbyyearfromtheshabbyimpecuniosityoftheCamdenTownlodgingtothelavishmunificenceoftheCrestHillmarblestaircaseandmyaunt’sgoldenbed，thebedthatwasfacsimiledfromFontainebleau。AndtheoddthingisthatasIcometothisnearerpartofmystoryI
finditmuchmoredifficulttotellthantheclearlittleperspectivememoriesoftheearlierdays。Impressionscrowdupononeanotherandoverlaponeanother；Iwaspresentlytofallinloveagain，tobeseizedbyapassiontowhichIstillfaintlyrespond，apassionthatstillcloudsmymind。IcameandwentbetweenEalingandmyauntanduncle，andpresentlybetweenEffieandclubland，andthenbetweenbusinessandalifeofresearchthatbecamefarmorecontinuous，infinitelymoreconsecutiveandmemorablethananyoftheseothersetsofexperiences。Ididn’twitnessaregularsocialprogresstherefore；myauntandunclewentupintheworld，sofarasIwasconcerned，asiftheyweredisplayedbyanearlycinematograph，withlittlejumpsandflickers。
AsIrecallthissideofourlife，thefigureofmyround-eyes，button-nosed，pink-and-whiteAuntSusantendsalwaystothecentralposition。Wedrovethecarandsustainedthecar，shesatinitwithamagnificentvarietyofheadgearpoiseduponherdelicateneck，andalwayswiththatfaintghostofalispnomisspellingcanrender——commentedonandilluminatedthenewaspects。
I’vealreadysketchedthelittlehomebehindtheWimblehurstchemist’sshop，thelodgingneartheCobdenstatue，andtheapartmentsinGowerStreet。ThencemyauntandunclewentintoaflatinRedgauntletMansions。TheretheylivedwhenImarried。
Itwasacompactflat，withverylittleforawomantodoinitInthosedaysmyaunt，Ithink，usedtofindthetimeheavyuponherhands，andsoshetooktobooksandreading，andafteratimeeventogoingtolecturesintheafternoon。Ibegantofindunexpectedbooksuponhertable：sociologicalbooks，travels，Shaw’splays。“Hullo！”Isaid，atthesightofsomevolumeofthelatter。
“I’mkeepingamind，George。”sheexplained。
“Eh？”
“Keepingamind。DogsInevercaredfor。It’sbeenatoss-upbetweensettingupamindandsettingupasoul。It’sjollyluckyforHimandyouit’samind。I’vejoinedtheLondonLibrary，andI’mgoinginfortheRoyalInstitutionandeveryblessedlecturethatcomesalongnextwinter。You’dbetterlookout。”。
AndIrememberhercominginlateoneeveningwithanote-bookinherhand。
“Whereyabeen，Susan？”saidmyuncle。
“Birkbeck——Physiology。I’mgettingon。”Shesatdownandtookoffhergloves。“You’rejustglasstome。”shesighed，andtheninanoteofgravereproach：“YouoldPACKAGE！Ihadnoidea！
TheThingsyou’vekeptfromme！”
Presentlytheyweresetting；upthehouseatBeckengham，andmyauntintermittedherintellectualactivities。ThehouseatBeckenghamwassomethingofanenterpriseforthematthattime，areasonablylargeplacebythestandardsoftheearlyyearsofTono-Bungay。Itwasabig，rathergauntvilla，withaconservatoryandashrubbery，atennis-lawn，aquiteconsiderablevegetablegarden，andasmalldisusedcoach-house。
Ihadsomeglimpsesoftheexcitementsofitsinauguration，butnotmanybecauseoftheestrangementbetweenmyauntandMarion。
Myauntwentintothathousewithconsiderablezest，andmyuncledistinguishedhimselfbythethoroughnesswithwhichhedidtherepaintingandreplumbing。Hehadallthedrainsupandmostofthegardenwiththem，andstoodadministrativeonheaps——administratingwhiskytotheworkmen。Ifoundhimthereoneday，mostNapoleonic，onalittleElbaofdirt，inanatmospherethatdefiesprint。Healso，Iremember，chosewhatheconsideredcheerfulcontrastsofcoloursforthepaintingofthewoodwork。Thisexasperatedmyauntextremely——shecalledhima“PestilentialoldSplosher“withanunusualnoteofearnestness——andhealsoenragedherintonoveltiesofabusebygivingeachbedroomthenameofsomefavouritehero——Cliff，Napoleon，Caesar，andsoforth——andhavingitpaintedonthedooringiltlettersonablacklabel。“MartinLuther“waskeptforme。Onlyherrespectfordomesticdiscipline，shesaid，preventedherretaliatingwith“OldPondo“onthehousemaid’scupboard。
AlsohewentandorderedoneofthecompletestsetsofgardenrequisitesIhaveeverseen——andhadthemallpaintedahardclearblue。Myauntgotherselflargetinsofakindlierhuedenamelandhadeverythingsecretlyrecoated，andthisdone，shefoundgreatjoyinthegardenandbecameanardentrosegrowerandherbaceousborderer，leavingherMind，indeed，todampeveningsandthewintermonths。WhenIthinkofheratBeckenham，Ialwaysthinkfirstofherasdressedinthatbluecottonstuffsheaffected，withherarmsinhugegauntletedgardeninggloves，atrowelinonehandandasmallbutnodoubthardyandpromisingannual，limpandveryyoung-lookingandsheepish，intheother。
Beckenham，inthepersonsofavicar，adoctor’swife，andalargeproudladycalledHogberry，“called“onmyuncleandauntalmostatonce，sosooninfactasthelawnwasdownagain，andafterwardsmyauntmadefriendswithaquietgentlewomannextdoor，aproposofanoverhangingcherrytreeandtheneedofrepairingthepartyfence。SosheresumedherplaceinsocietyfromwhichshehadfallenwiththedisasterofWimblehurst。Shemadeapartiallyfacetiousstudyoftheetiquetteofherposition，hadcardsengravedandretaliatedcalls。AndthenshereceivedacardforoneofMrs。Hogberry’sAtHomes，gaveanoldgardenpartyherself，participatedinabazaarandsaleofwork，andwasreallybecomingquitecheerfullyentangledinBeckenhamsocietywhenshewassuddenlytakenupbytherootsagainbymyuncleandtransplantedtoChiselhurst。
“OldTrek，George。”shesaidcompactly，“OnwardandUp。”whenI
foundhersuperintendingtheloadingoftwobigfurniturevans。
“Goupandsaygood-byeto’MartinLuther，’andthenI’llseewhatyoucandotohelpme。”