CHAPTER XVIII.
How the promise was cancelled.
It was a large garden, once fairly laid out and planted, but now sadly neglected.

The broad terrace walk was overgrown with weeds; the stone steps and the carved balusters were broken in places, and covered with moss; the once smooth lawn was unconscious of the scythe; the parterres had lost their quaint devices; and the knots of flowers--tre-foil, cinque-foil, diamond, and cross-bow--were no longer distinguishable in their original shapes.

The labyrinths of the maze were inextricably tangled, and the long green alleys wanted clearing out.
But all this neglect passed unnoticed by Jocelyn, so completely was he engrossed by the fair creature at his side.

Even the noise of the May Games, which, temporarily interrupted by Hugh Calveley, had recommenced with greater vigour than ever--the ringing of the church bells, the shouts of the crowd, and the sounds of the merry minstrelsy, scarcely reached his ear.

For the first time he experienced those delicious sensations which new-born love excites within the breast; and the enchantment operated upon him so rapidly and so strongly, that he was overpowered by its spell almost before aware of it.