“Which I supposed we shall love best of all,” she finished, “to the end.”
“Yes,” Mr. Aggland replied, “probably, for—
‘This fond attachment to the well-known place,
Whence first we started into life’s long race,
Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway,
We feel it e’en in age, and at our latest day.’
—But, mercy on us! how the rain is coming down! I do not think I ever heard heavier rain even in Cumberland;” and he rose as he spoke, and, putting the curtains aside, looked out into the night.
Just then there came a ring at the front door—a peal, hurried, loud, and yet conveying the idea of the bell having been pulled by an unsteady hand.
“Who on earth can it be at this hour, and in such a storm?”
Phemie had started up as the peal echoed through the house, and uncle and niece stood looking apprehensively in each other’s faces for a moment, wondering what could be wrong.