Where La Crosse held the house at the bluff's trembling edge, La Grange receives it into a gentler declivity, the land easing outward as if the estate has finally exhaled—and here the cantilevered roof planes read less as defiance against gravity and more as a long horizontal welcome, their weathered steel fascias catching the softer Kentucky light that pools across these rolling outer reaches of Prospect. The shift is subtle but unmistakable: the same board-formed concrete walls that braced against the escarpment now frame a more generous dialogue with the meadow grasses pressing close, and the floor-to-ceiling glazing along the southern elevation opens not onto vertiginous drop but onto a pastoral depth that draws the eye toward Lafayette's approaching ridgeline. La Grange's quiet affluence has always favored properties that know how to hold land without clutching it, and this estate answers that sensibility with every low-slung volume and every gravel courtyard that dissolves seamlessly into native plantings. The architecture does not pause here so much as it gathers new momentum, the sight lines already threading forward through the property's eastern tree break toward what waits beyond—