'A strange choice of favourites!' she observed scornfully.

Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits. I hemmed once more, and
drew closer to the hearth, repeating my comment on the wildness of
the evening.

'You should not have come out,' she said, rising and reaching from
the chimney-piece two of the painted canisters.

Her position before was sheltered from the light; now, I had a
distinct view of her whole figure and countenance. She was
slender, and apparently scarcely past girlhood: an admirable form,
and the most exquisite little face that I have ever had the
pleasure of beholding; small features, very fair; flaxen ringlets,
or rather golden, hanging loose on her delicate neck; and eyes, had
they been agreeable in expression, that would have been
irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible heart, the only
sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of
desperation, singularly unnatural to be detected there. The
canisters were almost out of her reach; I made a motion to aid her;
she turned upon me as a miser might turn if any one attempted to
assist him in counting his gold.

'I don't want your help,' she snapped; 'I can get them for myself.'

'I beg your pardon!' I hastened to reply.

'Were you asked to tea?' she demanded, tying an apron over her neat
black frock, and standing with a spoonful of the leaf poised over