Spurling," said Jonathan, who overheard the whisper, "you owe your situation to me. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. But I can't consent to the course you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due consideration. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely platonically,” she said. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. But it would be too risky. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring.
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