The water of the little stream outside the hedge made music too.
Philip placed himself on the bench beneath the appletree.

What a change was all this, he thought to himself, from the staring hot stones of Malta, the squalor of Constantinople, the frigid cliffs of Spitzbergen, the noisome tropical forests of the Indies! This was Arcady.

It was peace, it was content.

His life was sure to be varied and perhaps stormy--here would be the true change, the spirit of all this.

Of course he would have two sides to his life like most men: that lived before the world, and that of the home.