strange at my age; but still--"

"Still what!"

"My earlier childhood," continued Spencer, breathing hard and turning
pale, "was not spent in the happy home I have now; it was passed in a
premature ordeal of suffering and pain. Its recollections have left a
dark shadow on my mind, and under that shadow lies every thought that
points towards the troublous and labouring career of other men. But," he
resumed after a pause, and in a deep, earnest, almost solemn voice,--"
but after all, is this cowardice or wisdom? I find no monotony--no
tedium in this quiet life. Is there not a certain morality--a certain
religion in the spirit of a secluded and country existence? In it we do
not know the evil passions which ambition and strife are said to arouse.
I never feel jealous or envious of other men; I never know what it is to
hate; my boat, my horse, our garden, music, books, and, if I may dare to
say so, the solemn gladness that comes from the hopes of another life,--
these fill up every hour with thoughts and pursuits, peaceful, happy, and
without a cloud, till of late, when--when--"

"When what?" said Camilla, innocently.

"When I have longed, but did not dare to ask another, if to share such a
lot would content her!"

He bent, as he spoke, his soft blue eyes full upon the blushing face of
her whom he addressed, and Camilla half smiled and half sighed:

"Our companions are far before us," said she, turning away her face, "and
see, the road is now smooth." She quickened her horse's pace as she said