He would beguile her to take moonlight walks with him on the bridge, for the sole purpose, as it seemed, of pouring into her ear the longest of his ballads. He would lead her away to sequestered rustic seats, whence the rush of the surf to the sands was heard soft and soothing; and when he had her all to himself, and the sea lay before them, and the scented shade of gardens spread round, and the tall shelter of cliffs rose behind them, he would pull out his last batch of sonnets, and read them in a voice tremulous with emotion. He did not seem to know that though they might be rhyme they were not poetry. It appeared, by Shirley's downcast eye and disturbed face, that she knew it, and felt heartily mortified by the single foible of this good and amiable gentleman.

He would beguile her to take moonlight walks with him for the sole purpose, it seemed, of pouring into her ear his longest ballads. He would lead her away to lonely spots by the sea, and in the scented shade of gardens, with tall cliffs rising behind them, he would pull out his latest batch of sonnets, and read them in a voice tremulous with emotion. He did not seem to know that though they might be rhyme, they were not poetry. It appeared, by Shirley's face, that she knew it, and felt heartily mortified by the single foible of this good and amiable gentleman.
