How Mrs.Hollingford smiled upon us.

And how sweet the honey and rice-cakes tasted at breakfast.

It was arranged that, all things considered, we had better not be married for a year.
I remember our gathering round the fire that evening, the curtains unclosed, the mild moonshine behind the window, the room half black shade and half red light, the dear faces beaming round.

That evening I wrote my letter to Grace Tyrrell to say that I should not go to London.
That evening, also, there came a letter from Mr.Hill to John, saying that he hoped to arrive at the Hall on the morrow or next day.

At tea we talked about Rachel Leonard.