The house was small, but in a beautiful, bright street, and the one window near the door was full of ferns and ivies.

I did not get in, which was a disappointment to me, particularly as I had no printed card, and realized keenly all the ignominy of leaving one in writing.

This was in April, and I saw no more of my new friend.

Richard was away, on some business of the firm, and the days were very dull indeed.
In May he came back, and resumed the dinners, and the evenings in the parlor, though not quite with the frequency of the past winter,--and I think there was the least shade of constraint in his manner.

It was on one of these May days that he came and took me to the Park.