’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. Austin, who had been evidently schooled by Wild, maintained a profound silence on this head. 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. She could no longer wait. “It’s—private. While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. \" She said, bashful. ” “Thanks for the nice evening, John.
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