CHAPTER XXXIV.
"_Gertrude._ Is my knight come?
O the Lord, my band! Sister, do my cheeks look well?
Give me a little box o' the ear, that I may seem to blush."-- EASTWARD HOE.
She is gone now.

The atmosphere of the house seems less clear, less pure, now that she has left it.

As she drives away, it seems to me, looking after her, that no flower ever had a modester face, a more delicate bloom.

If I had time to think about it, I should fret sorely after her, I should grievously miss her; but I have none.
The carriage that takes her to the station is to wait half an hour, and then bring back Roger.

There is, therefore, not more than enough time for me to make the careful and lengthy toilet, on which I have expended so much painstaking thought.