The Tenants of Malory

s house. Old Rebecca Mervyn was seated on the bench beside the door,

es, and fixing her dark wild gaze upon him, "I ought to

, I believe. I hope you are

, I am n

s must be a very damp, unhealthy place-too much crowded up with trees; they say

ove shall be my last. I

to low spirits; you re

; for I know you have co

o ask you how you are, and

; what u

ngwell? Pray make use of me in any way that strikes yo

ure it's better. What business could he and Mr. Larkin, and that Jew, have with my child,

lso, ma'am; and Mr.

is dead, you know, but I did not tell him so. I promised Lady Verney I'd tell nothing to strangers-they all grow angry then. Mr. Larkin

Mervyn; you cannot be too cautious in ho

ne, I daren't. I know nothing of law papers-my poor head! How should I? And she could not

ver you please," said Tom, making

come to tell me so

particular to say; I merely c

rld? For twenty years-more, more than twenty-I have been watching, day and night; and now, sir, I look at the sea no more.

e, I should be only too hap

ve nothing

nothing more

when it came very near, I saw it was Arthur himself coming upright in his shroud, his feet on the water, and with his feet, hands, and face, as white as snow, and his arms stretched to meet mine; and I felt I was going to die; and I covered my eyes with my hands, praying to God to receive me, expecting his touch; and I heard the rush of the water about his feet, and a voice-it was yours, not his-sa

re he cut in the old lady's vision; "and I have no news to tell, and I think it will puzzle those Jews and lawyers to draw me

hose dark paths in the wood; and I walk round sometimes through that hollow and on the low road toward Cardyllian in the evening, when no

I shall find you a great deal better when I come back"-and with these words he took his leave, and as he walked along the low narrow road that leads by the inland track to Cardyllian, of which old Rebecca Mervyn spoke, whom should he encounter but Miss Charity coming down the hill at a brisk pace with Miss Flood in that lady's pony-carriage

of walking direct to Mrs. Jones's, sauntered for a while on the Green, and bethought him what mistakes such

le walking down it. When he reached the little flowery platform of closely-mown grass, on which stands the pretty house of Hazelden, he closed the iron gate gently and l

her she sat on the ottoman, or on the sofa, or in the cushioned arm-chair, with her novel in her hands. But his sidelong glances could not penetrate th

ld have made a semi-burglarious entry through one of them. But there had come of late, on a sudden, a sort of formality in his relations with Agnes;

from Miss Charity; have you

without dreaming of a reason; but now had grown, as I say, a reserve, which has always the more harmless incidents of guilt. He wa

the beech-walk, s

nks; ver

ech at each side, and a thick screen of underwood and evergreens, and turning the clump of rhododendrons at

changed colour: had she mi

revailed, though we couldn't; and I'm glad, a

couldn't really resist;

ea-time. She's gone with Miss Flood s

tated, looking towards home,

nd down; it does look so jolly, does

ll; but that is all, for I

nce, and Tom, with a

you do; and you must be quite aware of it; you must, indeed, Agnes. I think

ut it had the merit of going direct

been at all

you'd tell me-to deserve it; because-even if there was-another-anything-no matter what-I'm an old

ing down on the walk before her, as Sedley thought,

e, it rather surprises me that it should in the least interest you; because we down here have

t more than I deserve; but I think you might have remembered that you had not on

I have done," pleaded she,

had no right to expect to hear anything about; but if I had, and been thought worthy of confidence, I woul

n't-I'm qu

were going home, only because I came here, and you fancied I might join you in your walk; and this c

ds and drew back a step, looking

ertain I don't. I can't conce

sed in equ

orry-if I have said anything to vex you; but I did think i

recollect perfectly Mr. Cleve Verney's walking half-a-dozen times with Charity and me upon the Green, but what tha

yours-your friend, Agnes. There's no use in sayin

did not seem to mind it; but considering, as you say, how much you once used to be here, it did strike me as very unkind-I may as well say

elf for that, I think, bad a

you did not very much

forgiven me; and I think if I could be sure you liked me ever so little, even in the old way, I should be one of the happiest fellows

aid Agnes, with a cruel litt

e hands like your old self. You've

le-a little shy, and so gratified-and a little silvery l

and so grateful! Oh, Agnes, you wo

it, for Tom was exceeding hi

iends," said A

quite

, qu

Agnes! I can never tell you-never, how I love you. Yo

He only knew that the tones were very sad and

I won't do-nothing I won't try-if you'll only say you like me-ever so little. Do sit

oments will, like the bean that Jack sowed in his garden, till it reached-Titania

. I really think you might have told Edward where you were going. Will you drink tea w

eory about Cleve Verney, and having never dreamed of Tom Sedley as possibly making his début at Hazelden in the character of a lover-she brought her prisoners home with only a vague sense

ce without an answer, and now you