"Tewed," I understand, is Yorkshire for "worried." Aunt Dorothy having departed into the shadowy realm of dreams, Charlotte and I were left to our own devices.
There was a backgammon board on a side-table, surmounted by an old Indian bowl of dried rose-leaves; and, _pour nous distraire_, I proposed that I should teach my dearest that diverting game.

She assented, and we set to work in a very business-like manner, Miss Halliday all attention, I serious as a professional schoolmaster.
Unfortunately for my pupil's progress, the game of backgammon proved less entertaining than our own conversation, so, after a very feeble attempt on the one side to learn and on the other to teach, we closed the board and began to talk;--first of the past, then of the future, the happy future, which we were to share.
There is no need that I should set down this lovers' talk.

Is it not written on my heart?
The future seemed so fair and unclouded to me, as my love and I sat talking together yesterday afternoon.

Now all is changed.

The strangest, the most surprising complications have arisen; and I doubt, I fear.
After we had talked for a long time, Miss Halliday suddenly proposed that I should read to her.
"Diana once told me that you read very beautifully," said this flatterer; "and I should so like to hear you read--poetry of course.
You will find plenty of poems in that old bookcase--Cowper, and Bloomfield, and Pope.