He proposed to Miss
Burgoyne that they should walk home, by way of Piccadilly and Park Lane,
and that young lady cheerfully assented. It was quite a pleasant
afternoon, for London in midwinter. The setting sun shone with a
dull-copper lustre along the fronts of the tall buildings, and over the
trees of the Green Park hung clouds that were glorified by the
intervening red-hued mists. The air was crisp and cold--what a blessing
it was to be able to breathe!
Lionel was silent and absorbed; he only said, "Yes?" "Really!" "Indeed!"
in answer to the vivacious chatter of his companion, who was in the most
animated spirits. His brows were drawn down; his look was more sombre
than it ought to have been, considering who was with him. Perhaps he was
thinking of the crowded rooms they had recently left, and of the friends
who might now be arriving there, from whom he had voluntarily isolated
himself. Had they, had any one of them, counselled him to keep within
his own sphere? Well, he had taken that advice; here he was--walking
with Miss Burgoyne!
All of a sudden that young lady stopped and turned to the window of a
jeweller's shop; and of course he followed.
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