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"Glen, Glen!" he passionately cried, using her Christian name for the first time, "is it possible that you love me? I wanted to tell you of my love but I was afraid." "Why, you did tell me," Glen whispered, making no effort to free her hands. "I did! When?" "Don't you remember that night at Glen West when we first sang together?" "But I didn't say a word to you about my love."

At length, our course was crossed by a deep dell or dingle, such as they call in some parts of Scotland a den, and in others a cleuch or narrow glen. It seemed, by the broken glances which the moon continued to throw upon it, to be steep, precipitous, and full of trees, which are, generally speaking, rather scarce upon these shores.

I want him his way!" All jolly fine for old Bill, but where did young Mr. Coppinger come in? He held up his hand to show he had heard, and stood still. One hound spoke, sharply, in the depths of the woody glen. Another and another joined in. In a moment, the echoing glen was full of voices; it was impossible to tell what was happening.

Sometimes, too, in the glen, by moonlight, it was said belated villagers had met her, always startled first, and then smiling, generally singing snatches of old Irish ballads, that seemed to bear a sort of dim resemblance to her melancholy fate. The apparition has long ceased.

He then fled to the house where he was lodging, and while the sheriff and his force were endeavoring to break in, the lady of the house contrived his escape by a back way to a rocky glen called the Crags, where he hid himself in a cave. The disappointed sheriff wreaked his vengeance on the unfortunate lady, slew her, and burnt the house.

It was fine to be able once more to stretch out and shake loose every little muscle, to be able to draw in a long breath, just as deep as one wanted, free from the muffling of a foul mouth gag. The world was a good old place in which to live and surely Glen would henceforth try to live in it in an appreciable manner. "Look here, fellows," said Chick-chick. "I know all about this old wagon.

"I was afraid you were feeling tired after your journey, but evidently you have not yet reached the age of fatigue. That's right! Thats quite right! I am glad that you have joined us at the Nag's Head. We are a respectable and harmonious party, but we need life young life! We may weary you, but you will refresh and enliven us. In the name of our little company, I welcome you to the Glen?"

I can imagine I see them coming in here in a long procession each carrying his load, giving way to the next, and slipping away quietly in the gloom." "Perhaps they didn't do that way at all," said Glen, the practical. "If you swing your lantern away up you can see that this cave has high ledges running away back. Perhaps they managed to get rock from some of those ledges." "Perhaps they did.

Within ourselves we had walks in plenty, the glen being always beautiful in all its phases, whether the woods were green in the spring or ruddy in the autumn. In the park which surrounded the house were the ruins of the former mansion of Brentwood, a much smaller and less important house than the solid Georgian edifice which we inhabited.

Jessie Robertson, who lived right at the base of supplies, issued semi-weekly bulletins as to whether they might expect a headache or not, and Forest Glen conducted itself accordingly. So, having settled exactly the periods of danger, and finding that often Mondays and Thursdays were days of happiness and license, Forest Glen settled down securely to its intermittent studies.