The one swept joyfully on to its appointed course: the other--was what Heaven made it, abode where Heaven placed it, and likewise fulfilled its end.
Coming back out of the little wood, I took John a new way I had discovered, through the prettiest undulating meadow, half-field, half-orchard, where trees loaded with ripening cider apples and green crabs made a variety among the natural foresters.

Under one of these, as we climbed the slope--for field, beech-wood, and common formed a gradual ascent--we saw a vacant table laid.
"A pretty piece of rusticity--domestic Arcadia on a small scale," said John; "I should like to invite myself to tea with them.

Who can they be ?" "Probably visitors.

Resident country-folks like their meals best under a decent roof-tree.

I should not wonder if this were not one of Mr.
March's vagaries." "Don't say vagaries--he is an old man." "Don't be reproachful--I shall say nought against him.