Mr. It suited him to dampen the spirits of any who sought to impose upon him, as these relics of the loathed family of Valade seemed like to do. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig. ’ ‘Not French?’ echoed Hilary. Then she shrugged. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. "The poor young man!" she said.
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