Rosemary , it appeared , possessed a book which Mr. Meredith had not read and wished to read . She offered to lend it to him and when they reached the old homestead on the hill he went in to get it . The house itself was an old-fashioned gray one , hung with vines , through which the light in the sitting-room winked in friendly fashion . It looked down the Glen , over the harbour , silvered in the moonlight , to the sand-dunes and the moaning ocean . They walked in through a garden that always seemed to smell of roses , even when no roses were in bloom . There was a sisterhood of lilies at the gate and a ribbon of asters on either side of the broad walk , and a lacery of fir trees on the hill 's edge beyond the house . `` You have the whole world at your doorstep here , '' said John Meredith , with a long breath . `` What a view -- what an outlook ! At times I feel stifled down there in the Glen . You can breathe up here . '' `` It is calm to-night , '' said Rosemary laughing . `` If there were a wind it would blow your breath away . We get ` a ' the airts the wind can blow ' up here . This place should be called Four Winds instead of the Harbour . '' `` I like wind , '' he said . `` A day when there is no wind seems to me DEAD . A windy day wakes me up . '' He gave a conscious laugh . `` On a calm day I fall into day dreams . No doubt you know my reputation , Miss West .
If I cut you dead the next time we meet do n't put it down XXXXX bad manners .
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