"Full from the fount of love's delicious joys
Some bitter o'er the flowers its bubbling venom flings."--BYRON.
The low carriage jolted over the deep ruts left by the carts which had carried the bracken the previous autumn, as the stout pony threw himself into the collar with a will. On either side of the narrow lane were high, sandy banks, riddled with rabbit-holes and crowned with a tangle of brambles and briars. The leaves were just beginning to turn, and the hips and haws had already clothed themselves in their winter finery, and shone in flaming scarlet against the blue sky overhead. There was a pleasant coolness in the air, and the birds twittered merrily in tune with Nature's cheerful mood.
Francis was in excellent spirits, and Philippa, noticing the unwonted colour in his cheeks, told herself that she had never seen him look so well, and that surely the journey to the Magical Island might soon be undertaken.
They were paying the long-talked-of visit to Bessmoor, and Philippa, who had before now explored most of the roads near Bessacre, had chosen this unfrequented lane in preference to the usual road which led through the village; partly because of its beauty, and partly because she had no wish that they should meet Isabella Vernon, who so often walked upon the upper part of the moor.
She had seen her on the preceding day, and had given her a full account of the invalid, but she did not intend that he should be confronted by an old acquaintance if it could possibly be avoided. It was, of course, possible that he would not recognise her, but safer to run no risks.
Slowly they climbed the incline, the pony slipping and stumbling as the sand crumbled away from under his feet.
"It is a hard pull for the poor old thing," said Philippa penitently; "I ought not to have come this way."
"We'll give him a rest when we get to the top. It won't hurt him, but it makes me feel as if I ought to get out and walk."
"You ought to do no such thing," she retorted quickly. "The very idea is preposterous."
Francis laughed at her vehemence. "You need not think that you are going to pamper me like this for the rest of my life. We shall be taking long walks together, you and I, very soon. Oh, it is a joy to be alive on such a day as this. Look at that rabbit scuttling away up the lane. It reminds me----" He stopped and hesitated "I can't remember--but I seem to---- Oh, drive on, Phil. Yes,"--he spoke excitedly,--"it is coming back to me now--that tree and that gate."