‘Good evening, Mr. Rivers. And good evening, old Carlo. Your dog is quicker to recognise his friends than you are, sir; he pricked his ears and wagged his tail when I was at the bottom of the field, and you have your back towards…

‘But you feel solitude an oppression? The little house there behind you is dark and empty.’ ‘I have hardly had time yet to enjoy a sense of tranquillity, much less to grow impatient under one of loneliness.’ ‘Very well; I hope you feel the…

‘Dead?’ repeated Diana. ‘Yes.’ She riveted a searching gaze on her brother’s face. ‘And what then?’ she demanded, in a low voice. ‘What then, Die?’ he replied, maintaining a marble immobility of feature. ‘What then? Why—nothing. Read.’ He threw the letter into her lap.…

‘Do explain,’ I urged, when he halted once more. ‘I will; and you shall hear how poor the proposal is,—how trivial— how cramping. I shall not stay long at Morton, now that my father is dead, and that I am my own master. I…