matter, but desired also that he should assent to her arrangements.

It was a charming day for such a journey. It was cold, but not cold
enough to make them uncomfortable. There was a wind, but not wind enough
to torment them. Once there came on a little shower, which just sufficed
to give Harry an opportunity of wrapping his companion very closely, but
he had hardly completed the ceremony before the necessity for it was
over. They both agreed that this mode of travelling was infinitely
preferable to a journey by railroad, and I myself should be of the name
opinion if one could always make one's journeys under the same
circumstances. And it must be understood that Harry, though no doubt he
was still taking his revenge on Florence by abstaining from all allusion
to her letter, was not disposed to make himself otherwise disagreeable.
He played his part of lover very well, and Florence was supremely happy.

"Harry," she said, when the journey was more than half completed, "you
never told me what you thought of my letter."

"Which letter?" But he knew very well which was the letter in question.

"My prudent letter--written in answer to yours that was very imprudent."

"I thought there was nothing more to be said about it."

"Come, Harry, don't let there be any subject between us that we don't
care to think about and discuss. I know what you meant by not answering
me. You meant to punish me, did you not, for having an opinion different
from yours? Is not that true, Harry?"

"Punish you, no; I did not want to punish you. It was I that was