Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. ” She put on a short dress that was sky blue, with thick straps about the shoulders. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. He gave her silence in return. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. \" She rose to leave the kitchen. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless.
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