But indeed that is not at all a good description of her attitude. 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. Something in his tone pinched her heart. But he might have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the further arch; whereas, Wood, as we have seen, took his course upon the right. “There is my aunt,” she said. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief.
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