“I should kill you. ” Sir John’s reply was incoherent. Wood uttered something like an imprecation. Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self. F. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed.
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