The effect of this random chatter of my good-natured friend upon

my mind may well be imagined. It was fortunate that he was quite

too much occupied in what he was saying to note my annoyance. In

vain, anxious to be let off, was I restrained in utterance--cold,

unpliable. The good fellow took for granted that it was an act

of friendship to try to amuse; and thus, yearning with a nameless

discontent and apprehension to get home I was marched to and fro

along the river-bank, from one scene to another--he, meanwhile,

utterly heedless of time, and as actively bent on perpetual motion

as if his sinews were of steel and his flesh iron. Meanwhile, the

guitar ceased, and the song in the cottage of Miss Davison; the

lights went out in that and all the other dwellings in sight; the

moon waned; and it was not till the clock from a distant steeple

tolled out the hour of eleven with startling solemnity, that Kingsley

exclaimed:-"Well, mon ami, we have had a ramble, and I trust I have somewhat

dissipated your gloomy fit. And now to bed--what say you?--with

what appetite we may!"

With what appetite, indeed! We separated. I rushed homeward, the

moment he was out of sight--once more stood before my own dwelling.

There the lights remained unextinguished and William Edgerton was

still a tenant of my parlor!




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