Chapter 26 - Page 2

"in the most desperate fashion," for the
reason that I lied in matters in which it was the easiest thing
in the world to detect me. On the whole I think that a vain-
glorious desire to appear different from what I was, combined
with an impossible hope that the lie would never be found out,
was the chief cause of this extraordinary impulse.

After tea, since the rain had stopped and the after-glow of
sunset was calm and clear, the Princess proposed that we should
go and stroll in the lower garden, and admire her favourite spots
there. Following my rule to be always original, and conceiving
that clever people like myself and the Princess must surely be
above the banalities of politeness, I replied that I could not
bear a walk with no object in view, and that, if I DID walk, I
liked to walk alone. I had no idea that this speech was simply
rude; all I thought was that, even as nothing could be more
futile than empty compliments, so nothing could be more pleasing
and original than a little frank brusquerie. However, though much
pleased with my answer, I set out with the rest of the company.

The Princess's favourite spot of all was at the very bottom of
the lower garden, where a little bridge spanned a narrow piece of
swamp. The view there was very restricted, yet very intimate and
pleasing. We are so accustomed to confound art with nature that,
often enough, phenomena of nature which are never to be met with
in pictures seem to us unreal, and give us the impression that
nature is unnatural, or vice versa; whereas phenomena of nature
which occur with too much frequency in pictures seem to us
hackneyed, and views which are to be met with in real life, but
which appear to us too penetrated with a single idea or a single
sentiment, seem to us arabesques. The view from the Princess's
favourite spot was as follows. On the further side of a small
lake, over-grown with weeds round its edges, rose a steep ascent
covered with bushes and with huge old trees of many shades of
green, while, overhanging the lake at the foot of the ascent,
stood an ancient birch tree which, though partly supported by
stout roots implanted in the marshy bank of the lake, rested its
crown upon a tall, straight poplar, and dangled its curved
branches over the smooth surface of the pond--both branches and
the surrounding greenery being reflected therein as in a mirror.

"How lovely!" said the Princess with a nod of her head, and
addressing no one in particular.

"Yes, marvellous!" I replied in my desire to show that had an
opinion of my own on every subject. "Yet somehow it all looks to
me so terribly like a scheme of decoration."

The Princess went on gazing at the scene as