Such was the dream of my girlhood.
When we entered the lawn, lights began to glimmer in the house.

I trembled at the idea of meeting Mrs.Linwood, or the Amazonian Meg.
There was a side door through which I might pass unobserved, and by this ingress I sought my chamber and locked the door.

A lamp was burning on the table.

Had I lingered abroad so late?
Had the absence of Ernest been observed?
I sat down on the side of the bed, threw off my bonnet and scarf, shook my hair over my shoulders, and pushed it back with both hands from my throbbing temples.

I wanted room.