Hear him then in return! He will beat at me like the rainy West wind on a lily.

"See," he will say, when I am broken and bespattered, "she is fair, she is stately, is she not!" And really I feel, at the sound of praise, though I like it, that the opposite, satire, condemnation, has its good right to pelt me.

Look; there is the tower, there 's the statue, and under that line of pine-trees the path we ran up;--"dear English boys!" as I remember saying to myself; and what did you say of me ?' Her hand was hanging loose.

I grasped it.

She drew a sudden long breath, and murmured, without fretting to disengage herself, 'My friend, not that!' Her voice carried an unmistakeable command.