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Updated: May 29, 2025
"My dear Charlotte" Miss Gabriel was within an ace of calling her a fool "if this is Buttershall's garden " "But a moment ago you were sure of it!" "And so I am. Very well then; since this is Buttershall's garden, we have only to hold on by the wall and go forward, and that will take us " But here the wall ended, and the sentence with it. "Ai-ee!" "Are you hurt?... I said," asserted Mrs.
We have been bearing away to the right; people always do in a fog." "Then if this really is Buttershall's garden and I only hope and trust you are not mistaken we can bear away from it to the left, on purpose, and then as likely as not we shall find ourselves going straight," reasoned Mrs. Pope, lucidly.
"T'cht!" said Miss Gabriel, striding forward with gathering confidence; but at the seventh stride or so a sharp exclamation escaped her, as she stood groping with both hands into the night. "What's the matter?" "It's a wall, I think.... I had almost run against it.... Yes, this must be the wall of Buttershall's garden." "Are you sure?" "Certain.
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