the east winds, to this hour the place has the advantage that gardens
planted here are earlier by fourteen days than any others in the country
side, and that a man may sit in them coatless in the bitter month of
May, when on the top of the hill, not two hundred paces hence, he must
shiver in a jacket of otterskins.

The Lodge, for so it has always been named, in its beginnings having
been but a farmhouse, faces to the south-west, and is built so low that
it might well be thought that the damp from the river Waveney, which
runs through the marshes close by, would rise in it. But this is not so,
for though in autumn the roke, as here in Norfolk we name ground fog,
hangs about the house at nightfall, and in seasons of great flood the
water has been known to pour into the stables at the back of it, yet
being built on sand and gravel there is no healthier habitation in the
parish. For the rest the building is of stud-work and red brick, quaint
and mellow looking, with many corners and gables that in summer are half
hidden in roses and other creeping plants, and with its outlook on
the marshes and the common where the lights vary continually with the
seasons and even with the hours of the day, on the red roofs of Bungay
town, and on the wooded bank that stretches round the Earsham lands;
though there are many larger, to my mind there is none pleasanter in
these parts. Here in this house I was born, and here doubtless I shall
die, and having spoken of it at some length, as we are wont to do of
spots which long custom has endeared to us, I will go on to tell of my
parentage.

First, then, I would set out with a certain pride--for who of us does
not love an ancient name when we happen to be born to it?--that I am
sprung from the family of the Wingfields of Wingfield Castle in Suffolk,
that lies some two hours on horseback from this place. Long ago the