The cottage itself--The Hawke's Nest, as it was whimsically called--he described with all the picturesque ardor of an artist. It was truly a most lovely spot, nestled down in a cleft between the hills, and so shut in from all wintry influences that the oranges and myrtles overgrew it as though the soil were Italy. The grounds were of that half-park, half- garden order, which combines greensward and flowering border, and masses into one beauteous whole the glories of the forest-tree with the spray- like elegance of the shrub. There was a little lake, too, with an island, over whose leafy copper beeches a little Gothic spire appeared,- -an imitation of some richly ornamented shrine in Moorish Spain. What was it that in this dark story would still attract him to the scenery of this spot, making him linger and dally in it as though he could not tear himself away? Why would he loiter in description of some shady alley, some woodbine-trellised path, as though the scene had no other memories but those of a blissful bygone? In fact, such was the sort of fascination the locality seemed to exercise over him, that his voice grew softer, the words faltered as he spoke them, and once he drew his hand across his eyes, as though to wipe away a tear.
“Was it not strange, Stocmar,” broke he suddenly in, “I was never able to see her one moment alone? She avoided it in fifty ways! Hawke kept his room for two days after we arrived, and we scarcely ever saw her, and when we did, it was hurriedly and passingly. Godfrey, too, he would send for one of us,--always one, mark you, alone; and after a few muttering words about his suffering, he 'd be sure to say, 'Can _you_ tell me what has brought them all down here? I can't get it out of my head that there ain't mischief brewing.' Now each of us in turn had heard this speech, and we conned it over and over again. 'It's the woman has put this notion in his head,' said Towers. 'I 'll take my oath it came from _her_. Look to _that_, Paul Hunt,' said he to me, 'for you have influence in that quarter.' I retorted angrily to this, and very high words passed between us; in fact, the altercation went so far that, when we met at dinner, we never addressed or noticed each other. I 'll never forget that dinner. Wake seemed to range himself on Towers's side, and Collins looked half disposed to take mine; everything that was said by one was sure to be capped by some sharp impertinence by another, and we sat there interchanging slights and sneers and half-covert insolences for hours.