woodland  lanes — rich  with  red  gables,  surprises  of
woodbine  and  great  sunflowers — where  he  would  walk
meditatively  in  the  sunsetting,  seeing  the  village  lads
and  lassies  pass,  interested  in  their  homely  life,  so
resting  his  brain  after  the  day's  labour ;  then  in  his
study  he  would  find  the  candles  already  lighted,  the
kettle  singing,  his  books  and  his  manuscripts  ready
for  three  excellent  hours  ;  upon  his  face  the  night
would  breathe  the  rustling  of  leaves  and  the  rich
odour  of  the  stocks  and  tall  lilies,  until  he  closed
the  window  at  midnight,  casting  one  long  sad  and
regretful  look  upon  the  gold  mysteries  of  the  heavens.
So  his  reverie  ran,  interrupted  by  the  conversation
in  the  next  room.  He  heard  his  name  mentioned
frequently.  The  situation  was  embarrassing,  for  he
could  not  open  a  door  without  being  heard.  At  last
he  tramped  boldly  out,  slamming  the  doors  after  him,
leaving  a  note  for  Frank  on  the  table  in  the  passage.
It  ran  as  follows — "  I  am  leaving  town  in  a  few  days.
