The sweet churchbells are ringing.

It seems like a dream.

There is nothing but the religion attaches me to England; but that--is not that everything?
How I used to sigh on Sundays to hear them in Portugal! 'I have an idea of instituting toilette-receptions.

They will not please Miss Carrington so well.
'Now to the peaceful village church, and divine worship.

Adieu, my dear.
I kiss my fingers to Silva.