ABSTRACT
During the remainder of the evening I studiously avoided meeting Isabella. She did not return from Lady Aubrey’s till the close of twilight, and as soon as I heard her approaching the parsonage, I hastened to my chamber. Sir Sidney had accompanied her along the park; at the end of the garden I heard him wish her ‘a pleasant evening with the amiable Walsingham.’ My blood foamed in every vein: his ironical expression appeared little less than a new insult: she thanked him; by the light of the moon, tripping, with more than usual gaiety, along the garden. She sung an air which Sir Sidney had taught her the preceding evening; every note penetrated my heart, and the hours, till day-break, were passed in agony.
