An indescribable oppressiveness had overtaken him with the near approach of the journey's end and the realities of life that lay there.
"You don't say a word, Edgar," she observed.

"Aren't you glad to get back?
I am." "You have friends here.

I have none." "But my friends are yours." "Oh yes--in that sense." The conversation languished, and they drew near the end of Hintock Lane.

It had been decided that they should, at least for a time, take up their abode in her father's roomy house, one wing of which was quite at their service, being almost disused by the Melburys.

Workmen had been painting, papering, and whitewashing this set of rooms in the wedded pair's absence; and so scrupulous had been the timber-dealer that there should occur no hitch or disappointment on their arrival, that not the smallest detail remained undone.