"By George! how well she looked with her hair all loose," he said to himself, as he at last regained his pillow, still warm with the generous god.
But now, as he thought of that night, returning on his road from Allington to Guestwick, those loose, floating locks were remembered by him with no strong feeling as to their charms.

And he thought also of Lily Dale, as she was when he had said farewell to her on that day before he first went up to London.

"I shall care more about seeing you than anybody," he had said; and he had often thought of the words since, wondering whether she had understood them as meaning more than an assurance of ordinary friendship.

And he remembered well the dress she had then worn.

It was an old brown merino, which he had known before, and which, in truth, had nothing in it to recommend it specially to a lover's notice.