“No, I’m fine. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. Annabel shook her head. Indeed I must. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. " CHAPTER IX.
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