The wind blew again in the tree-tops; a volley of cold sea-rain deluged the garden, and, as the deuce would have it, a gutter which had been hitherto choked up began suddenly to play upon my head and shoulders with the vivacity of a fountain.

We parted with a shock; I sprang to my feet, and she to hers, as though we had been discovered.

A moment after, but now both standing, we had again approached the window on either side.
'Flora,' I said, 'this is but a poor offer I can make you.' She took my hand in hers and clasped it to her bosom.
'Rich enough for a queen!' she said, with a lift in her breathing that was more eloquent than words.

'Anne, my brave Anne! I would be glad to be your maidservant; I could envy that boy Rowley.

But, no!' she broke off, 'I envy no one--I need not--I am yours.' 'Mine,' said I, 'for ever! By this and this, mine!' 'All of me,' she repeated.