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In the hearts and views of living people, too, spring brought a budding of youthfulness and a gush of sap. Duff Salter acknowledged it as he looked in Podge Byerly's blue eyes and felt her hands as they wrapped his scarf around him, or buttoned his gloves. Whispering, and without the tablets this time, he articulated: "Happy for you, Mischief, that I am not young as these trees!"

"You are right, you are right, sir," he said; "and then, I hear Byerly's voice speaking to the old woman." But before he could proceed to put Lord Sherbrooke's suggestion in execution, Byerly was in the room, holding up a large leathern bag, and exclaiming, "Here it is! here it is!" "Alas!" said Caroline "I fear dangerously obtained."

A minute after, however, there came the clatter of horses' feet upon the pavement of the yard; and in another instant Byerly's voice was heard, saying, "Come, put to your spurs," and two horses galloped away from the inn as hard as they could go.

That night, instead of any inquiries, he stalked down in his worked slippers the dead man's and long dressing gown, and, after smiling at all, took Podge Byerly's hand and looked at it. This time he spoke in a sweet, modulated voice, "Very pretty!" She was about to reply, when he gave her the ivory tablet, and put his finger on his lip. She wrote, "Did you ever fight a duel?"