The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. Miss Ellicot, for instance, considers me a most improper person. Had this not been the case, he must have refused even to see his Frenchified granddaughter. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. Epithalamy might do. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. “Don’t!” she begged. But after a time I learned the ways of the parrakeets, and they would come down to me like doves in the stories. “You’ve got to take the decent reasonable way.
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