But suppose, now, we call you Revel--Harry Revel?
That's English enough, and will remind me just the same--if Mr.Scougall will not think it too Anacherontic." I saw no reason to fear this: but then I had no idea what she meant by it, or by calling herself romantic.

She was certainly soft-hearted.

She possessed many books, as well as an album in her own handwriting, and encouraged me to read aloud to her on summer mornings when the sun was up and ahead of us.

And once, in the story of _Maximilian, or Quite the Gentleman: Founded on Fact and Designed to excite the Love of Virtue in the Rising Generation_, at a point where the hero's small brother Felix is carried away by an eagle, she dissolved in tears.

"In my native Wales," she explained afterwards, "the wild sheep leap from rock to rock so much as a matter of course that you would, in time, be surprised if they didn't.