But on that morning he could not leave his path to follow the wild deer, or slay the lesser game, of which the copses were full.

Mastered by a greater passion even than hunting, Verty drew near Apple Orchard--making signs with his head to the deer to go on their way, and wholly oblivious of pheasants.
He reached Apple Orchard just as the sun soared redly up above the distant forest; and the old homestead waked up with it.

Morning always smiled on Apple Orchard, and the brilliant flush seemed, there, more brilliant still; while all the happy breezes flying over it seemed to regret their destiny which led them far away to other clouds.
Verty always stopped for a moment on his way to and from Winchester, to bid the inmates good morning; and these hours had come to be the bright sunny spots in days otherwise full of no little languor.

For when was Daymon merry and light-hearted, separated from his love?
It is still the bright moment of meeting which swallows up all other thoughts--around which the musing heart clusters all its joy and hope--which is looked forward to and dreamed over, with longing, dreamy, yet excited happiness.

And this is the reason why the most fatal blow which the young heart can suffer is a sudden warning that there must be no more meetings.