And though to many minds Hyde Manor might seem neither fair nor sweet, Katherine really liked it.  Perhaps she had some inherited taste for low lands, with their shimmer of water and patches of green; or perhaps the gentle beauty of the landscape specially fitted her temperament.  But, at any rate, the wide brown stretches, dotted with lonely windmills and low farmhouses, pleased her.  So also did the marshes, fringed with yellow and purple flags; and the great ditches, white with water-lilies; and the high belts of natural turf; and the summer sunshine, which over this level land had a white brilliancy to which other sunshine seemed shadow.  Hyde had never before found the country endurable, except during the season when the marshes were full of birds; or when, at the Christmas holidays, the ice was firm as marble and smooth as glass, and the wind blowing fair from behind.  Then he had liked well a race with the famous fen-skaters.

The Manor House was neither handsome nor picturesque, though its dark-red bricks made telling contrasts among the ivy and the few large trees surrounding it.  It contained a great number of rooms, but none were of large proportions.  The ceilings were low, and often crossed with heavy oak beams; while the floors, though of polished oak, were very uneven.  Hyde had refurnished a few of the rooms; and the showy paperings and chintzes, the fine satin and gilding, looked oddly at variance with the black oak wainscots, the Elizabethan fireplaces, and the other internal decorations.

Katherine, however, had no sense of any incongruity.  She was charmed with her home, from its big garrets to the great wine-bins in its underground cellars; and while Hyde wandered about the fens with his fishing-rod or gun, or went into the little town of Hyde to meet over a market dinner the neighbouring squires, she was busy arranging every room with that scrupulous nicety and cleanliness which had been not only an important part of her education, but was also a fundamental trait of her character.  Indeed, no Dutch wife ever had the netheid, or passion for order and cleanliness, in greater perfection than Katherine.  She might almost have come from Wormeldingen, “where the homes are washed and waxed, and the streets brushed and dusted till not a straw lies about, and the trees have a combed and brushed appearance, and do not dare to grow a leaf out of its place.”  So, then, the putting in order of this large house, with all its miscellaneous, uncared-for furniture, gave her a genuine pleasure.

Always pretty and sweet as a flower, always beautifully dressed, she yet directed, personally, her little force of servants, until room after room became a thing of beauty.  It was her employment during those days on which Hyde was fishing or shooting; and it was not until the whole house was in exquisite condition that Katherine took him through his renovated dwelling.  He was delighted, and not too selfish and indifferent to express his wonder and pleasure.