"Do, dear Uncle Hal, come this way with me for a few moments!"
Yielding to the impulse she gave me, we were presently disengaged from our companions, and, leaning, as if by mutual agreement, against a pillar.
"What a luxury it is to be quiet!" exclaimed your cousin, with a sigh of relief. "How that little Miss B—— does chatter! Really it is profanation to think or speak of common things to-night, and here!"
"Well, my fair Epicurean," returned I, "since
——'Silence, like a poultice comes
To heal the blows of sound,'
you shall reward me for my indulgence in attending you, by repeating some of Byron's apropos lines, for me as we stand here"—
"At your pleasure, dear uncle."
Presently she began, in a subdued tone, as if afraid of disturbing the dreams of another, or as if half listening while she spoke to the tread of those
'Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time;'
but gradually losing all consciousness, save that of the inspiration of the bard, our fair enthusiast reached a climax of eloquence with the words—