Dreamy, lazy, mild; he sat poring in-doors, instead of roaming abroad--in truth, was a changed lad.

I told him so, and laid it all to the blame of the Anonymous Friend: who held him in such fascinated thrall that he only looked up once all the morning,--which was when Mr.and Miss March went by.

In the afternoon he submitted, lamb-like, to be led down to the beech-wood--that the wonderful talking stream might hold forth to him as it did to me.

But it could not--ah, no! it could not.

Our lives, though so close, were yet as distinct as the musical living water and the motionless grey rock beside which it ran.