"With all my heart."

She then described places and persons in such terms as might have been

used for that purpose by any woman to any man within the four seas, so

entirely absent from that description was everything specially

appertaining to her own existence. When she had done she said, gayly,

"Now do you tell me in return what has happened in Hintock since I have

been away."

"Anything to keep the conversation away from her and me," said Giles

within him.

It was true cultivation had so far advanced in the soil of Miss

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Melbury's mind as to lead her to talk by rote of anything save of that

she knew well, and had the greatest interest in developing--that is to

say, herself.

He had not proceeded far with his somewhat bald narration when they

drew near the carriage that had been preceding them for some time.

Miss Melbury inquired if he knew whose carriage it was.

Winterborne, although he had seen it, had not taken it into account.

On examination, he said it was Mrs. Charmond's.

Grace watched the vehicle and its easy roll, and seemed to feel more

nearly akin to it than to the one she was in.

"Pooh! We can polish off the mileage as well as they, come to that,"

said Winterborne, reading her mind; and rising to emulation at what it

bespoke, he whipped on the horse. This it was which had brought the

nose of Mr. Melbury's old gray close to the back of Mrs. Charmond's

much-eclipsing vehicle.

"There's Marty South Sitting up with the coachman," said he, discerning

her by her dress.

"Ah, poor Marty! I must ask her to come to see me this very evening.

How does she happen to be riding there?"

"I don't know. It is very singular."

Thus these people with converging destinies went along the road

together, till Winterborne, leaving the track of the carriage, turned

into Little Hintock, where almost the first house was the

timber-merchant's. Pencils of dancing light streamed out of the

windows sufficiently to show the white laurestinus flowers, and glance

over the polished leaves of laurel. The interior of the rooms could be

seen distinctly, warmed up by the fire-flames, which in the parlor were

reflected from the glass of the pictures and bookcase, and in the

kitchen from the utensils and ware.

"Let us look at the dear place for a moment before we call them," she

said.

In the kitchen dinner was preparing; for though Melbury dined at one

o'clock at other times, to-day the meal had been kept back for Grace.

A rickety old spit was in motion, its end being fixed in the fire-dog,

and the whole kept going by means of a cord conveyed over pulleys along

the ceiling to a large stone suspended in a corner of the room. Old

Grammer Oliver came and wound it up with a rattle like that of a mill.




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