Before it was quite dark they would stand, hand in hand, looking out of the window across the flat turf to the dark clump of trees which hid further view from their eyes.
'Do you wish you were still mistress here, dear ?' he once said.
'Not at all,' said she cheerfully.

'I have a good enough room, and a good enough fire, and a good enough friend.

Besides, my latter days as mistress of the house were not happy ones, and they spoilt the place for me.

It was a punishment for my faithlessness.

Nic, you do forgive me?
Really you do ?' The twenty-third of December, the eve of the wedding-day, had arrived at last in the train of such uneventful ones as these.