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One day I had come to my studies in lower spirits than usual; the

ebb was occasioned by a poignantly felt disappoint there was a letter for me, and when I went

down to take it, als

were vouchsafed s on business The bitter check had wrung fro over the crabbed characters and

flourishing tropes of an Indian scribe, ain

St John calledto do this my

voice failed me: words were lost in sobs He and I were the only

occupants of the parlour: Diana was practising her --it was a very fine May day, clear,

sunny, and breezy My companion expressed no surprise at this

emotion, nor did he question me as to its cause; he only said "We ait a few minutes, Jane, till you are more composed" And

while I smothered the paroxys on his desk, and looking like a physician watching

with the eye of science an expected and fully understood crisis in a

patient'sstifledabout not being very well thatit St John put away my books

and his, locked his desk, and said "Now, Jane, you shall take a walk; and with me"

"I will call Diana and Mary"

"No; I want only one co, and that o out by the kitchen-door: take the road