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'But all these things are so doubtful that a man is wrong to fix his happiness upon them. After that he went out to ramble about, the place, and before the third day was over Clara was able to perceive that, in spite of what he had said, he was as busy about the cattle as though his bread depended on them.
One afternoon, some two or three days after the young man came up to Fairview, he was returning from a ramble in the woods with his gun, when he met a beautiful young girl, simply attired, and bearing on her head a light bundle of grain which she had gleaned in a neighboring field.
You ramble really nowhither without emerging on some small court or terrace that throws your view across a gulf of tangled gardens or vineyards and over to a cluster of serried black dwellings which have to hollow in their backs to keep their balance on the opposite ledge.
A busy country town was likely to furnish interests and distractions of a different kind. But before finally quitting the neighbourhood he visited a sister at Aldeburgh, and, his son writes, 'one day was given to a solitary ramble among the scenery of bygone years Parham and the woods of Glemham, then in the first blossom of May.
I am not such a fool. I know when the odds are too great, even although I wear a uniform. Still, should I chance to meet obstruction during my ramble, it is not likely I shall run from it without a pass or two. I merely return to our camp, and will be back presently, if naught unpleasant occur." "Our camp? You deliberately venture your life, and ours as well, from mere bravado?" "Bravado!
A small, but judiciously-selected company had assembled; all were people of musical tastes, and most of them capable of sharing in the performances. There were but few ladies; perhaps it did not suit the mistress of the house to have the attentions of the gentlemen divided among too many. Miss Sandford was undeniably queen of the evening; her superb face and figure, and irreproachable toilet, never showed to better advantage. And her easy manners, and ready, silvery words, would have given a dangerous charm to a much plainer woman. She had a smile, a welcome, and a compliment for each, not seemingly studied, but gracefully expressed, and sufficient to put the guests in the best humor. Mrs. Sandford, less demonstrative in manner than her sister-in-law, and less brilliant in conversation and personal attractions, was yet a most winning, lovable woman, a companion for a summer ramble, or a quiet tête-
It was quite evident that, although Bertram spoke in a half-jesting tone of Giant Despair, he was in reality much delighted with the singularity of this extemporised and interesting ramble. "I say, Bertram, don't you like this sort of thing?" inquired March, looking back at his companion, on reaching a somewhat level part of the pass. "Like it? Ay, that do I. I love it, March.
Passing Brickell Avenue and then the last of the city, he continued, now on the road, now going cross-country, until he came out on a patch of broken beach, with a background of jungle-like forest. The sun had gone beyond the meridian mark during his ramble southward, and the afternoon was hurrying by. For the way was long, though he had tramped steadily.
The next morning, when the children had gone out to ramble in the woods with their father, her memory being full of those old times, she began to say over to the parrot some of the phrases that formerly amused her father and Rosabella. The old bird was never talkative now; but when urged by Flora, she croaked out some of her familiar phrases. "I'm glad we brought pauvre Manon with us," said Mrs.
On the same evening, during a moonlight ramble, Adolay asked him to give her a little instruction in the Eskimo tongue, and, just before he retired for the night, his mother asked him if he intended to take the Indian girl as one of his wives. "You know, mother," was Cheenbuk's reply, "I have always differed from my friends about wives.
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