Believe me, the bitterness of it has almost departed, crushed out of me together with much of the weariness and sorrow I brought with me here by the nameless glory of these lonely months. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it. It ought not to be much. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. 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. ‘I have no idea. One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr.
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