That was what her radiant face told me; and could I do less than believe the sweet confession?
For the first few moments we could scarcely speak to each other, and then we began to converse in the usual commonplace strain.
She told me of her astonishment on seeing me in that remote spot.

I could hardly confess to having business at Huxter's Cross, so I was fain to tell my dear love a falsehood, and declare that I was taking a holiday "up at the hills." "And how did you come to choose Huxter's Cross for your holiday ?" she asked _naively_.
I told her that I had heard the place spoken of by a person in the city--my simple-minded Sparsfield to wit.
"And you could not have come to a better place," she cried, "though people do call it the very dullest spot in the world.

This was my dear aunt Mary's house--papa's sister, you know.

Grandpapa Halliday had two farms.

This was one, and Hyley the other.