Francois Boucher paintings

Francois Boucher paintings
Frank Dicksee paintings
Ford Madox Brown paintings
landscape opened before us. We were at the head of a valley and below us, half a mile distant, grey and gold amid a screen of boskage, shone the dome and columns of an old house. ‘Well?’ said Sebastian, stopping the car. Beyond the dome lay receding steps of water and round it, guarding and hiding it, stood the soft hills. ‘Well?’
‘What a place to live in!’ I said.
‘You must see the front and the fountain.’ He leaned forward and put the car into gear. ‘It’s where my family live’; and even then, rapt in the vision, I felt, momentarily, an ominous chill at the words he used - not, ‘that is my house’, but ‘it’s where my family live’.
‘Don’t worry,’ he continued, ‘they’re all away. You won’t have to meet them.’
‘But I should like to.’