They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. " "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan. Ann Veronica considered her answer. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone.
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