Halloa, Ben!" cried he, shaking a broad-backed fellow, equipped in a short-skirted doublet, and having a badge upon his arm,—"scullers wanted. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard. She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty.
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