” For a time there seemed no comfort for her even in Capes. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. After feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a lane a little further on, to the right. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. There it was—to be borrowed.
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