Mrs.Slater never ventured into the gardens; they were for her superiors, and she complacently accepted a world in which things were so ordered as the only world possible.

But there was plenty of life outside the gardens.
There were, on the different days of the week, the various musicians, and Henry was friendly with them all.

He delighted in music; as he stood there, listening to the barrel-organ, the ideas, pictures, dreams, flew like flocks of beautiful birds through his brain, fleet, and always just beyond his reach, so that he could catch nothing, but would nod his head and would hope that the tune would be repeated, because next time he might, perhaps, be more fortunate.
The Major, who played the harp on Saturdays, was a friend of Mrs.
Slater.

"Nice little feller, that of yours, mum," he would say.

"'Ad one meself once." "Indeed ?" "Yes, sure enough....