A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. “Me and my bright ideas. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. He seemed resigned but cheerful, and held frequent and serious discourses with the ordinary, who felt satisfied of his sincere penitence. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. ‘Not yet, madame. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table.
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