The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. It would be very hard perhaps to make you understand just how I feel about it. ’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. Now lend me your own hand. Having no more patience, I drew you aside to give you a compliment on your radiant beauty. You must wait till supper's over.
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