As Sir Leicester basks in his library and dozes over his newspaper, is there no influence in the house to startle him, not to say to make the very trees at Chesney Wold fling up their knotted arms, the very portraits frown, the very armour stir?

As Sir Leicester dozes over his newspaper in the library, is there no influence in the house to startle him, to make the very portraits frown, the very armour stir?
