” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. "What's all this?" exclaimed Wood in amazement. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. " "I feel bewildered," said Ruth. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses.
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