There used to be two men, but Mrs.Osborn had insisted on cutting wages down.
Across the yew hedge, the tarn sparkled like a mirror and on its farther side, where a clump of dark pines overhung a beach of silver sand, the hillslopes shone with yellow grass, relieved by the green of fern and belts of moss.

The spot was picturesque; the old house, with its low, straight front and mullioned windows, round which creepers grew, had a touch of quiet beauty.

Osborn was proud of Tarnside, although he sometimes chafed because he had not enough money to care for it as he ought.
By and by he glanced at his wife, who had silently filled the cups and was cutting cake.

She was a thin, quiet woman, with a hint of reserve in her delicately molded face.

Sometimes she tactfully exercised a restraining influence, but for the most part acquiesced, for she had found out, soon after her marriage, that her husband must not be opposed.
Grace, who sat opposite, had recently come home from school, and was marked by an independence somewhat unusual at Tarnside.