’ Melusine turned, an irrepressible giggle escaping her lips as she thought of the Mother Abbess in the convent at Blaye. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. Never since I was a girl have I seen your father so moved. I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. All they left it was the moon and stars. What a contrast did the lovely scene she now gazed upon present to the squalid neighbourhood she had recently quitted! On all sides, expanded prospects of country the most exquisite and most varied. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side.
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