Such a confession will look very absurd, I fear: but no matter: I have written it: and they that read it will not know the writer.
While I was walking along, happy within, and pleased with all around, Miss Murray came hastening to meet me; her buoyant step, flushed cheek, and radiant smiles showing that she, too, was happy, in her own way.
Running up to me, she put her arm through mine, and without waiting to recover breath, began--'Now, Miss Grey, think yourself highly honoured, for I'm come to tell you my news before I've breathed a word of it to anyone else.' 'Well, what is it ?' 'Oh, _such_ news! In the first place, you must know that Mr.Hatfield came upon me just after you were gone.

I was in such a way for fear papa or mamma should see him; but you know I couldn't call you back again, and so!--oh, dear! I can't tell you all about it now, for there's Matilda, I see, in the park, and I must go and open my budget to her.

But, however, Hatfield was most uncommonly audacious, unspeakably complimentary, and unprecedentedly tender--tried to be so, at least--he didn't succeed very well in _that_, because it's not his vein.

I'll tell you all he said another time.' 'But what did _you_ say--I'm more interested in that ?' 'I'll tell you that, too, at some future period.

I happened to be in a very good humour just then; but, though I was complaisant and gracious enough, I took care not to compromise myself in any possible way.