Which is his room ?" Mrs.Tod pointed to a window--not on our side of the house, but the other.

A hand was just closing the casement and pulling down the blind--a hand which, in the momentary glimpse we had of it, seemed less like a man's than a woman's.
When we were settled in the parlour John noticed this fact.
"It was the wife, most likely.

Poor thing! how hard to be shut up in-doors on such a summer evening as this!" It did seem a sad sight--that closed window, outside which was the fresh, balmy air, the sunset, and the roses.
"And how do you like Enderley ?" asked John, when, tea being over, I lay and rested, while he sat leaning his elbow on the window-sill, and his cheek against a bunch of those ever-intruding, inquisitive roses.
"It is very, very pretty, and so comfortable--almost like home." "I feel as if it were home," John said, half to himself.

"Do you know, I can hardly believe that I have only seen this place once before; it is so familiar.

I seem to know quite well that slope of common before the door, with its black dots of furze-bushes.