'Lesbia, this is my last day at Fellside, and you and I may never have a
minute alone together again while I am here. Will you come for a little
walk with me on the Fell? There is something I must say to you before I
go.'
Lesbia's delicate cheek grew a shade more pale. Instinct told her what
was coming, though never mortal man had spoken to her of love. Nor until
now had Mr. Hammond ever addressed her by her Christian name without
the ceremonious prefix. There was a deeper tone in his voice, a graver
look in his eyes, than she had ever noticed before.
She rose, and took up her sunshade, and went with him meekly through the
cultivated shrubbery of ornamental timber to the rougher pathway that
wound through a copse of Scotch fir, which formed the outer boundary of
Lady Maulevrier's domain. Beyond the fir trees rose the grassy slope of
the hill, on the brow of which sheep were feeding. Deep down in the
hollow below the lawns and shrubberries of Fellside the placid bosom of
the lake shone like an emerald floor in the sunlight, reflecting the
verdure of the hill, and the white sheep dotted about here and there.
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