The Argosy — page 334: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Caroline Heath. 315 **Some rural places are detestable and some are charming ; this is the latter,” he remarked, as they went along. ‘It looked so green and cool here last evening, after the hot railway journey and the dusty coach drive afterwards, that I nearly wished to set up a per- manent tent in the place instead of a temporary one.” ‘Tt is a very pleasant spot,” answered Caroline. ‘I like the scenery,” he continued, looking at the broad stretch of green plains and rising corn, intersected by groves of trees, by the winding river, all bounded by a purple-brown line of distant hills rising against the azure sky. ‘‘ Have you always lived here?” ‘Except when I have been away at school.” ‘Your name, I think, 1s Caroline Heath.” He looked at her as he spoke, half smiling. Caroline was sur- prised. ‘‘ How did you know my name ?” she asked. “Ah! did you think the little birds of the air whispered it? I heard it just now at Squire Williams’s ; his daughter told it me.” Caroline smiled too. ‘‘ But why should she tellit? Doyou know the Williamses? ” ‘J did not know them, or anyone else here, until to-day. Call- ing to put the same request to the Squire which I am about to put to your father, I found that the lady and gentleman the coach put down last night are a Captain and Mrs. Dennet, acquaintances of my mother’s. We all fell into conversation. Upon my remarking that I must come on here to ask leave about the tent, Mrs. Dennet said that a very pretty girl was standing at the gate here last evening who wore a lily in her hair. Miss Williams then said it must have been Caroline Heath. That is how I know your name.” The girl’s face had never before had so many blushes on it. ‘‘ Do you read much ?” he inquired, presently. “No, I wish I did. I have no time for it; I have to work.” The unconscious pathos in her voice touched Mr. Rochester. “TI Oought a book coming down yesterday ; it is a cheap edition of Lytton Bulwer’s ‘Eugene Aram.’ I will bring it to you if you like it.” “Oh, yes, I should like it ; but please do not bring it. I cannot tell how long it would be before I could read it through and return it to you.” “You need not do that; I have quite done with the book, and you are heartily welcome to it. I have asmall edition of Longfellow’s poems with me; I will bring that also.” “You are too good,” murmured Caroline. When they reached the three-acre field Caroline pointed out her father, who was overlooking the haymakers, and returned home alone, The next day a small parcel reached her, given into Tom’s hands by Mr. Rochester, containing the two books. Haymaking went on in the glowing summer weather. The tents were up at the various standing points, and the new railway was CoOnniclboooks (CO)