He understood. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. She was so interested, and this was such a relief from the trudging anxiety of her search for work, that she went on for a whole week as if she was still living at home. A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. “I have just ordered a carriage for her. "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society.
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