“My darling!” he said, clasping her resolutely in his arms, “my dearest!” “Mr. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored. Instantly I knew that I was going to run away that night before he returned from the neighbouring island. 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.
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