If I landed her at
your very door, she'd never find courage to ring the bell."
"Very well," said I; "I'll come to her instead."
And the sprite vanished.
I think I shall go to-morrow, or perhaps next day.
Good-bye, sweet,
Your EMILIA.
LETTER XIV.
GRAYSMILL, October 23d.
You are a dear to take such becoming interest in my friend. I have a
great deal more to tell you about the lunatic, as you call him, who,
by the way, is a great deal saner than either you or I.
Well, I went last Thursday. It took me some time to find the
cottage. After much rambling I came upon it in the most secluded
part of the Common, in a slight hollow. It is a sort of double
cottage, partly thatched, standing in a good-sized garden. I marched
through a rickety gate, and made for the house door. The garden is
one wild medley of vegetables, fruit-trees, and flowers, luxuriant
still, in spite of the late season. I was just bending over a
chrysanthemum when I heard a startling "Hulloa!" and found myself
accosted by the gardener, who stood, spade in hand, at the opposite
end of the gravel walk.
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