'Roland is so sympathetic,' simpered Annot; 'he appreciates fully all my yearnings after the beautiful, of which we can see nothing in the brick wilderness of London; and certainly your scenery on the Esk is surpassingly lovely, uncle!' though in reality she cared not a jot about it, and had somewhat the Cockney's idea of a landscape, 'that too much wood and too much water always spoiled it.' One evening matters had evidently reached a culminating point with this pair. Returning at a somewhat late hour for her, when the gloaming was deepening into darkness, from visiting a poor widow, to whom she had taken some comforts, Hester, on reaching Merlwood, paused in a garden path to look around her, pleased and soothed by the calmness and stillness of the dewy August evening, when not a sound was heard but the ceaseless murmur of the unseen Esk far down below. Suddenly, amid the shrubbery, she heard familiar voices, to which she listened dreamily, mechanically, at first; then, startled by their tenor, she was compelled to shrink between the great shrubs, and--however obnoxious and repugnant to her--was compelled to overhear; and till indignation came, as she listened, there was a passionate, pleading expression in Hester's eyes, which was unseen in the dark; as was the quivering of the lip that came from the torture of the soul. Roland was speaking in accents low and eager, and in others that were broken and tremulous Annot was responding. 'You have made me so happy, dearest Roland, by the first whisper that you--you loved me,' sighed the girl. 'I seem scarcely to recollect what happened to me before I met you here, Annot,' said he. 'How so?' she asked coyly. 'It seems as if I had only existed then.' 'And now, Roland?' 'I live, my darling! for "In many mental forms I vainly sought The shadow of the idol of my thought," till now. In three days more--only three--my little Annot--my golden-haired darling, I shall have to leave you for Earlshaugh; and, till you join me there, what will life be without you?' He drew her close to him, and poor Hester shivered; but flight was impossible. 'And what will life at Merlwood be to me?' replied, or rather asked, Annot, in that caressing and cooing tone which she well knew was one of her chief attractions. 'But Earlshaugh in time will be your home, Annot--yours, to make what alterations you choose on the quaint old place. You shall reign there--the fairest and dearest bride that ever came within its walls.' 'Do not talk thus, Roland!' 'Why?' 'It makes me feel as if I were selling myself.' 'Annot!' he expostulated; and she answered with that low, cooing laugh of hers which was such a wonderful performance. 'Now, tell me,' said she; 'were you ever in love before?' 'Why that question, Annot?' 'I have no motive--only curiosity, Roland--yet I could not bear to think that you had ever loved anyone else as you do me.' 'I never did! All men have, or have had fancies,' said he evasively.