Dynevor Terrace: or, the clue of life — Volume 1 by Charlotte Mary Yonge
page 38 of 471 (08%)
page 38 of 471 (08%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
each hand.
Mary started, but she did not lose her presence of mind, and her next glance showed her that the apparition was not alarming, and was nearly as much amazed as herself. It was a tall slight young man, in a suit of shepherd's plaid, with a fair face and graceful agile form, recalling the word debonnaire as she had yesterday heard it applied. In instant conviction that this was the truant, she put out her hand by the same impulse that lighted his features with a smile of welcome, and the years of separation seemed annihilated as he exclaimed, 'My cousin Mary!' and grasped her hand, adding, 'I hope I did not frighten you--' 'Oh no; but where did you come from?' 'Up a hill perpendicular, like Hotspur,' he replied, in soft low quiet tones, which were a strange contrast to the words. 'No, see here,' and parting the bushes he showed some rude steps, half nature, half art, leading between the ferns and mountain-ash, and looking very inviting. 'How delightful!' cried Mary. 'I am glad you appreciate it,' he exclaimed; 'I will finish it off now, and put a rail. I did not care to go on when I had lost the poor fellow who helped me, but it saves a world of distance.' 'It must be very pretty amongst those beautiful ferns!' 'You can't conceive anything more charming,' he continued, with the |
|