But Love is like a flower; it lies quiet in
its long still growth, and then in some happy hour it bursts into
perfect bloom. I had finished my business at Overton and stayed to eat
the market dinner with the spinners. Then in the quiet afternoon I took
my way home, and about a mile above the village I met Jane. I alighted
and took the bridle off Bendigo's neck over my arm, and asked permission
to walk with her. She said she was going to Harlow House, and would be
glad of my company. As we walked she told me they intended to return
there; she said she felt its large rooms with their faded magnificence
to be far more respectable than the little modern villa with its
creaking floors and rattling windows in which they were living."
"She is quite right," said Mrs. Hatton. "I wonder at them for leaving
the old place. Many a time and oft I have said that."
"She told me they had been up there a good deal during the past summer
and had enjoyed the peace and solitude of the situation; and the large
silent rooms were full of stories, she said--love stories of the old gay
Regency days.
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