with Cecilia, afterwards, that she would never tell what Mr. Whitefoot's
little book had been. Rowland had placed himself near Miss Garland,
while the feasting went forward on the grass. She wore a so-called gypsy
hat--a little straw hat, tied down over her ears, so as to cast her
eyes into shadow, by a ribbon passing outside of it. When the company
dispersed, after lunch, he proposed to her to take a stroll in the
wood. She hesitated a moment and looked toward Mrs. Hudson, as if for
permission to leave her. But Mrs. Hudson was listening to Mr. Striker,
who sat gossiping to her with relaxed magniloquence, his waistcoat
unbuttoned and his hat on his nose.

"You can give your cousin your society at any time," said Rowland. "But
me, perhaps, you 'll never see again."

"Why then should we wish to be friends, if nothing is to come of it?"
she asked, with homely logic. But by this time she had consented, and
they were treading the fallen pine-needles.

"Oh, one must take all one can get," said Rowland. "If we can be friends
for half an hour, it 's so much gained."

"Do you expect never to come back to Northampton again?"

"'Never' is a good deal to say. But I go to Europe for a long stay."

"Do you prefer it so much to your own country?"

"I will not say that. But I have the misfortune to be a rather idle man,
and in Europe the burden of idleness is less heavy than here."