She glanced into his face. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. “Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of obtaining some employment in London. But his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet. ’ ‘You won’t go to the general then?’ ‘There is no need. He believed me when I asked him to marry me.
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