” “Mr. In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,—"Mr. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks. That is so awful. Here you only waste your time. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how.
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