In the garden all by this time was joyous and wild merriment. The young ladies were running here and there; servants were preparing in a flowery retreat a long table full of fruits and every delicacy; and merriest of all, Miss Philippa was scattering on every side her joyous and contagious laughter. Suddenly this laughter of the young lady ceased, and she colored slightly. She saw Mowbray looking at her with a glance of so much love, that she could not support his gaze. In a moment he was at her side. "Will you not walk with me?" she said, without waiting for him to address her; and in a moment her arm was in his own, and they were strolling away. They went toward a noble old oak, in the branches of which was fixed a platform, and this platform was approached by a movable sort of ladder. The leaves around the platform were so dense that it was impossible to see any one who might be sitting within. As Mowbray and Philippa approached, the ladder was seen suddenly to move, a little exclamation was heard, and the next moment the movable steps rose erect, balanced themselves for an instant, and fell to the ground, cutting off all connection between the platform and the ground. At the same moment a triumphant voice muttered: "Now let me see them interrupt me!" Mowbray and Philippa did not hear it; they passed on, silent and embarrassed. Philippa, it was evident, had something to say, and scarcely knew how to begin; she hesitated, laughed, blushed, and patted the ground petulantly with her little foot. At last she said, with a smile and a blush: "I asked you to offer me your arm for an especial purpose. Can you guess what that purpose was?" Mowbray smiled, and replied: "I am afraid not." "I wished to tell you a tale." "A tale?" "A history, if you please; and as you are a thinker, and an impartial one, to ask your opinion." "I am sure you do me a great deal of honor," said Mowbray, smiling with happiness; "I listen." Philippa cast down her eyes, patted the ground more violently than before with her silken-sandalled foot, and biting her lip, was silent. Mowbray looked at her, and saw the blush upon her cheek. She raised her head--their eyes met; and the blush deepened. "Do not look at me," she said, turning away her head and bursting into a constrained laugh; "I never could bear to have any one look at me." "It is a very severe request, but I will obey you," he said, smiling; "now for your history."