My lips were sealed. I endeavoured to imitate
her own wonderful affectation of indifference, but, as you may
think? I was eagerly alert for any opportunity of serving her.
One morning Lady Jane had driven in her phaeton to Okehampton,
and I strolled along the road which led to that place in the hope
that I might meet her on her return.
It was the early winter, and banks of fading fern sloped down to
the winding road. It is a bleak place this Dartmoor, wild and
rocky--a country of wind and mist.
I felt as I walked that it is no wonder Englishmen should suffer
from the spleen. My own heart was heavy within me, and I sat
upon a rock by the wayside looking out on the dreary view with my
thoughts full of trouble and foreboding. Suddenly, however, as I
glanced down the road, I saw a sight which drove everything else
from my mind, and caused me to leap to my feet with a cry of
astonishment and anger.
Down the curve of the road a phaeton was coming, the pony tearing
along at full gallop. Within was the very lady whom I had come
to meet.
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