This whole affair is truly my fault. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. But here the resemblance stopped. “A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. Do you hear me, Sir? Won't you stir!" "Not a step," replied Langley, gruffly. “I may be leaving where I am in a few days, so very likely you will be no better off. .
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