Want of courtesy was not one of Graham's faults; indeed, he prided
himself upon his polished manners; so he accompanied Aunt Faith within
doors, placed an arm-chair by the table, drew up a footstool for her
comfort, and even lingered a moment to admire the shaded worsteds in
her basket, before he returned to the piazza and Sibyl. Once back in
the moonlight, however, the poetical conversation soon began again,
and the murmur of the two voices came faintly to Aunt Faith's ear as
she sat by the table, while the light breeze brought up from the
garden the fragrance of the flowers, always strongest after nightfall.

Back of the old stone house on the north side, the ground sloped down
towards the lake; first grassy terrace and bank, then a large
vegetable and fruit garden, terminating in a pasture and grove. The
stable and carriage-house stood off to the left, and the place was
somewhat carelessly kept, more like a farm than a residence; but an
air of cosy comfort pervaded the whole, and the grounds seemed to be
as full of chickens and ducks, cats and dogs, doves and sparrows,
horses and cows, as the house was full of canary and mocking-birds,
gold-fish, kittens, and plants, besides a large aquarium. Up from the
back pasture, at this moment, two shadowy forms were stealing. As they
drew nearer, sharp eyes might have discovered that they were two
persons on horseback coming up from the road which ran east and west
across the foot of the pasture. At the garden-fence they stopped, the
gentleman dismounted and lifted the lady to the ground. It was Bessie
Darrell and her cousin Hugh Warrington.

"Hush, Hugh; don't make me laugh so! we shall be discovered," she
said, as she gathered up her long skirt.

"But it is such a good joke!" said Hugh, mounting his horse again.