“Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. “Ding-dong-Diedermayer is here, Lucy. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. Wherein she differed but little from her young sisters. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin. " "But, do hear what it is," rejoined Winifred; "you know I'm shortly to be united to your nephew,—that is," she added, blushing, "when he can be married by his right name, for my father won't consent to it before.
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