“What made you think” he said, abruptly, with the gleam of avidity in his face, “that love makes people happy?” “I know it must. "In favour of my son. ‘Your niece, ma’am. 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. Anna, you shall not go. I sha’n’t care a rap if we can never marry.
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