The good people here lend one another dog-carts as freely as a cockney offers his umbrella.

I went back to Huxter's Cross alone, and the long solitary walk was very pleasant to me.
Looking up at the stars as I tramped homeward, I could but remember an old epigram:-- Were you the earth, dear love, and I the skies, My love should shine on you like to the sun, And look upon you with ten thousand eyes, Till heaven wax'd blind, and till the world were done.
I had ample leisure for reflection during that long night-walk, and found myself becoming a perfect Young--Hervey--Sturm--what you will, in the way of meditation.

I could not choose but wonder at myself when I looked back to this time last year, and remembered my idle evenings in third-rate _cafes_, on the _rive gauche_, playing dominoes, talking the foul slang of Parisian bohemia, and poisoning my system with adulterated absinthe.

And now I feast upon sweet cakes and honey, and think it paradisiac enjoyment to play whist--for love--in a farm-house parlour.

I am younger by ten years than I was twelve months ago.
Ah, let me thank God, who has sent me my redemption.
I lifted my hat, and pronounced the thanksgiving softly under that tranquil sky.