Then he ate supper, and after that walked to the top of Stanbury Hill, hoping to tire himself.

But he returned as little prepared for sleep as he had set out.

Now he endeavoured to think of Emma Vine; by way of help, he sat down and began a letter to her.

But composition had never been so difficult; he positively had nothing to say.

Still he must think of her.
When he went up to town on Tuesday or Wednesday one of his first duties would be to appoint a day for his marriage.