"ARE WORDS THE ONLY SIGNS OF LOVE?"


Lavinia easily found her way to Pope's villa. The first man of whom she
inquired knew the house well and guided her to it.

The house was somewhat squat and what we should now call double fronted.
The back looked on to a garden bordering the river, the front faced a
road on the other side of which was a high wall with a wooded garden
beyond.

"That be Mr. Pope's house, young madam, an' that be his garden too,
t'other side o' that wall. He be but a feeble shrivelled up whey-faced
little gentleman, thin as a thread paper an' not much taller than you
yourself. I'm told as he baint forty, but lor, he might be ninety by his
looks. We folk in the village don't see much of him an' I doubt if he
wants to see us."

"Gracious! Why is that? What makes him so unsociable?"

"He's always ailing, poor gentleman. Why, if ye went by his face he
might have one foot in the grave. When he fust comed to live here he
hated to have to cross the road to get to that there garden t'other
side, so what do'e do but have a way dug under the road. It be a sort
o' grotto, they say, with all kinds o' coloured stones and glasses
stuck about an' must ha' cost a pile o' money. I s'pose rich folk must
have their whims and vapours an' must gratify 'em too, or what be the
good o' being rich, eh? Thank 'ee kindly young madam."

Lavinia, upon whom the good Hannah had pressed all the coins that were