" "You are right," replied Darrell; "the weakness is past. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. ‘I will make certain that we are unobserved. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Her eyes still had the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect health. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. Acknowledge your faults.
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