came its fascinations. My head was full of Amy, and busy in devising schemes for her deliverance; for that she was a prisoner, I had at once decided; and, moreover, that I was to be the chivalrous knight who should rescue her from imprisonment. I felt within myself that the age of chivalry was not dead, in spite of what Burke had said to the contrary.
CHAPTER IV.
DEEPER AND DEEPER STILL.
When my sister and I went out for our morning's walk, Nelly was very curious to know who the arrival of the previous day might be; so I confided to her all that Mrs. Rummell had told me about Amy.
Yes! Amy; for I could not call her Miss Spencer. No! when a man is really in love (and I felt that I was) it is the lady's Christian name that always leaps to the lips, and hangs lovingly upon the tongue.
And even while we were speaking we met her with her mother. They were coming up from the sands, and Amy had evidently been bathing, for her long, damp, dishevelled hair was streaming from under her plain cottage bonnet, and was lost in all its luxuriant richness under the folds of her shawl. She glanced towards us, and looked confused (at least, I thought so) as she met my earnest gaze. She sees that I love her, I whispered to myself. I was in hopes that, for the slight courtesy I had shown them on the previous day, the lady-mother
