Then in the brown days of the autumn rains; and again in the keen November when the leaves were falling in sudden showers--but the highest leaves clung the longest--and puffs of whirling wind set the fallen leaves flying, and these were full of sharp sounds and pattering voices; and sixes of sparrows went flying with the leaves so that one could not well say which were leaves and which were birds; and yet again through the bitter time when the eaves were hung with icicles and the peaks of the blue slieves were white with snow, and the low hills and fields were hoary--the memory of the Prior and of the beloved house prevailed with him and he felt the dull ache of separation.
