She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. The nuns, they were very good with a whip. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. "At all hazards then then you shall know the truth," replied the woollen-draper, in a tone of affected solicitude,—"but are you really prepared?" "Quite—quite!" replied Winifred.
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