CHAPTER VII.
"Perigot.As the bonny lasse passed bye,
Willie.Hey, ho, bonnilasse!
P.She roode at me with glauncing eye,
W.As clear as the crystall glasse.
P.All as the sunny beame so bright,
W.Hey, ho, the sunnebeame!
P.Glaunceth from Phoebus' face forthright,
W.So love into thy heart did streame."
—Spenser: Shepheard's Calendar.
"The kindliest symptom, yet the most alarming crisis in the ticklish state of youth; the nourisher and destroyer of hopeful wits;… the servitude above freedom; the gentle mind's religion; the liberal superstition."—Charles Lamb.
The first sign of the unimagined snowstorm was like the transparent white cloud that seems to set off the blue. Anna was in the secret of Rex's feeling; though for the first time in their lives he had said nothing to her about what he most thought of, and he only took it for granted that she knew it. For the first time, too, Anna could not say to Rex what was continually in her mind. Perhaps it might have been a pain which she would have had to conceal, that he should so soon care
