'I took the liberty to call at Mrs.Warwick's house,' he informed her; 'the footman said she was at Copsley.

I found it on the map--I knew the directions--and started about two in the morning.

I wanted a walk.' It was evident to her that he was one of the young squires bewitched whom beautiful women are constantly enlisting.

There was no concealment of it, though he stirred a sad enviousness in the invalid lady by descanting on the raptures of a walk out of London in the youngest light of day, and on the common objects he had noticed along the roadside, and through the woods, more sustaining, closer with nature than her compulsory feeding on the cream of things.
'You are not fatigued ?' she inquired, hoping for that confession at least; but she pardoned his boyish vaunting to walk the distance back without any fatigue at all.
He had a sweeter reward for his pains; and if the business of the chronicler allowed him to become attached to pure throbbing felicity wherever it is encountered, he might be diverted by the blissful unexpectedness of good fortune befalling Mr.Arthur Rhodes in having the honour to conduct Mrs.Warwick to town.

No imagined happiness, even in the heart of a young man of two and twenty, could have matched it.