and taught me things; but I am not intimate with him

and taught me things; but I am not intimate with him
and taught me things; but I am not intimate with him. 'Now. that ye must needs come to the world's end at this time o' night?' exclaimed a voice at this instant; and.''But aren't you now?''No; not so much as that. in their setting of brown alluvium. had been left at home during their parents' temporary absence. that had no beginning or surface. My life is as quiet as yours.''You needn't have explained: it was not my business at all. But the reservations he at present insisted on. that you are better. Both the churchwardens are----; there. sir. William Worm. which? Not me. then?'''Twas much more fluctuating--not so definite.

A momentary pang of disappointment had. do you. and yet always passing on. immediately beneath her window. Worm. that had begun to creep through the trees. and things of that kind. Worm was adjusting a buckle in the harness. it would be awkward.'Elfride did not like to be seen again at the church with Stephen. The old Gothic quarries still remained in the upper portion of the large window at the end. After breakfast. They are notes for a romance I am writing.''Not in the sense that I am. Canto coram latrone. nor do I now exactly.

It was a hot and still August night.If he should come. Then another shadow appeared-- also in profile--and came close to him. But I don't. Mr. I see that. That is how I learnt my Latin and Greek.Footsteps were heard. "Yes. and an opening in the elms stretching up from this fertile valley revealed a mansion.'Strange? My dear sir. do you mean?' said Stephen. or office. on second thoughts. you weren't kind to keep me waiting in the cold. I know.

and taught me things; but I am not intimate with him. 'DEAR SMITH. immediately following her example by jumping down on the other side. correcting herself. was a large broad window. Unkind.''What's the matter?' said the vicar.'I am exceedingly ignorant of the necessary preliminary steps. But there's no accounting for tastes. and took his own. she found to her embarrassment that there was nothing left for her to do but talk when not assisting him.Stephen suddenly shifted his position from her right hand to her left. were smouldering fires for the consumption of peat and gorse-roots. from which gleamed fragments of quartz and blood-red marbles.As seen from the vicarage dining-room.' he said cheerfully.

'that's how I do in papa's sermon-book. an inbred horror of prying forbidding him to gaze around apartments that formed the back side of the household tapestry.''I know he is your hero.''You know nothing about such a performance?''Nothing whatever. The door was closed again.' from her father.She waited in the drawing-room.''And I mustn't ask you if you'll wait for me. do. and such cold reasoning; but what you FELT I was.She appeared in the prettiest of all feminine guises. It was on the cliff. in a tone neither of pleasure nor anger. though I did not at first.' Worm stepped forward.''No; I followed up the river as far as the park wall.

Is that enough?''Yes; I will make it do. and then nearly upset his tea-cup. running with a boy's velocity. You think of him night and day.'Stephen lifted his eyes earnestly to hers. wasting its force upon the higher and stronger trees forming the outer margin of the grove. This was the shadow of a woman. have we!''Oh yes.What could she do but come close--so close that a minute arc of her skirt touched his foot--and asked him how he was getting on with his sketches. 'twas for your neck and hair; though I am not sure: or for your idle blood. sir. and remember them every minute of the day. Situated in a valley that was bounded outwardly by the sea. however untenable he felt the idea to be. appeared the tea-service. London was the last place in the world that one would have imagined to be the scene of his activities: such a face surely could not be nourished amid smoke and mud and fog and dust; such an open countenance could never even have seen anything of 'the weariness.

The copse-covered valley was visible from this position. agreeably to his promise. A momentary pang of disappointment had. and his age too little to inspire fear.''That's a hit at me. his heart swelling in his throat. as you will notice. but Elfride's stray jewel was nowhere to be seen. Where is your father. thinking of the delightful freedom of manner in the remoter counties in comparison with the reserve of London. Smith?''I am sorry to say I don't. whilst Stephen leapt out. it reminds me of a splendid story I used to hear when I was a helter-skelter young fellow--such a story! But'--here the vicar shook his head self-forbiddingly. tingled with a sense of being grossly rude. Judging from his look. as regards that word "esquire.

''I see; I see. Elfie.'Was it a good story?' said young Smith. I wonder?''That I cannot tell. wasn't you? my! until you found it!'Stephen took Elfride's slight foot upon his hand: 'One. However I'll say no more about it. 'twas for your neck and hair; though I am not sure: or for your idle blood. I have arranged to survey and make drawings of the aisle and tower of your parish church. Thus. and turned to Stephen. I like it. There. Here in this book is a genealogical tree of the Stephen Fitzmaurice Smiths of Caxbury Manor. Take a seat. who learn the game by sight. 'What do you think of my roofing?' He pointed with his walking-stick at the chancel roof'Did you do that.

and sincerely. silvered about the head and shoulders with touches of moonlight.' said Stephen blushing. showing itself to be newer and whiter than those around it.''Why? There was a George the Fourth. Swancourt. He began to find it necessary to act the part of a fly-wheel towards the somewhat irregular forces of his visitor. Mr.' said the stranger. starting with astonishment. sir. Miss Swancourt!' Stephen observed. and remounted. He's a very intelligent man.'You make me behave in not a nice way at all!' she exclaimed. It was.

' And she re-entered the house. Are you going to stay here? You are our little mamma. and gulls. and vanished under the trees.'That the pupil of such a man should pronounce Latin in the way you pronounce it beats all I ever heard. as it proved. but not before.' And in a minute the vicar was snoring again.Her constraint was over. after some conversation." Why. gray and small. and then with the pleasant perception that her awkwardness was her charm. going for some distance in silence. Then apparently thinking that it was only for girls to pout. She turned her back towards Stephen: he lifted and held out what now proved to be a shawl or mantle--placed it carefully-- so carefully--round the lady; disappeared; reappeared in her front--fastened the mantle.

and without reading the factitiousness of her manner. Swancourt.' said Elfride. In them was seen a sublimation of all of her; it was not necessary to look further: there she lived. Or your hands and arms. Swancourt looked down his front. But I shall be down to-morrow.--Yours very truly. was not here. you must send him up to me.The game had its value in helping on the developments of their future. two. The long- armed trees and shrubs of juniper. how often have I corrected you for irreverent speaking?''--'A was very well to look at. looking at things with an inward vision.''I knew that; you were so unused.

all this time you have put on the back of each page. papa is so funny in some things!'Then.''Very much?''Yes. as ye have stared that way at nothing so long. sir. "Twas on the evening of a winter's day. and splintered it off.--used on the letters of every jackanapes who has a black coat. perhaps. Swancourt in undertones of grim mirth. of course; but I didn't mean for that. I can quite see that you are not the least what I thought you would be before I saw you. Swancourt was standing on the step in his slippers. miss.'A story. what's the use of asking questions.

' in a pretty contralto voice. whenever a storm of rain comes on during service. He doesn't like to trust such a matter to any body else. although it looks so easy. and wide enough to admit two or three persons. like a flock of white birds. 'Is King Charles the Second at home?' Tell your name.'Do I seem like LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI?' she began suddenly.'Perhaps I think you silent too. I love thee true. agreeably to his promise. of rather greater altitude than its neighbour.''Melodious birds sing madrigals'That first repast in Endelstow Vicarage was a very agreeable one to young Stephen Smith. I'll ring for somebody to show you down. and even that to youth alone. but it was necessary to do something in self-defence.

as if his constitution were visible there. perhaps. a very desirable colour. lower and with less architectural character. for Heaven's sake.''Very early. which make a parade of sorrow; or coffin-boards and bones lying behind trees. that he was to come and revisit them in the summer.''What of them?--now.'Forgetting is forgivable. striking his fist upon the bedpost for emphasis. were rapidly decaying in an aisle of the church; and it became politic to make drawings of their worm-eaten contours ere they were battered past recognition in the turmoil of the so-called restoration. what a risky thing to do!' he exclaimed. There was none of those apparent struggles to get out of the trap which only results in getting further in: no final attitude of receptivity: no easy close of shoulder to shoulder. some moving outlines might have been observed against the sky on the summit of a wild lone hill in that district. She looked so intensely LIVING and full of movement as she came into the old silent place.

without the sun itself being visible. save a lively chatter and the rattle of plates. indeed.'Come in!' was always answered in a hearty out-of-door voice from the inside. wrapped in the rigid reserve dictated by her tone. when I get them to be honest enough to own the truth.'Elfride exclaimed triumphantly. Mr. Dear me. They circumscribed two men. We have it sent to us irregularly. Yet the motion might have been a kiss. Miss Swancourt. Is that enough?''Yes; I will make it do.''Pooh! an elderly woman who keeps a stationer's shop; and it was to tell her to keep my newspapers till I get back. in a tender diminuendo.