An hour later, George Craik mounted his horse at the inn, and rode furiously homeward. An observer of human nature, noticing the expression of his countenance, and taking count of his square-set jaw and savage mouth, would have concluded perhaps that Alma estimated his opposition, and perhaps his whole character, somewhat too lightly. He had a bull-dog’s tenacity, when he had once made up his mind to a course of action.
But when he was gone, the high-spirited lady of his affections dismissed him completely from her thoughts. She joined Miss Combe in the library, and was soon busy with the problem of the Unknowable, as presented in the pages of the clearest-headed philosopher of our time.
CHAPTER VIII.—MYSTIFICATIONS.
‘What God hath joined, no man shall put asunder,’
Even so I heard the preacher cry—and blunder!
Alas, the sweet old text applied could he
Only in Eden, or in Arcady.
This text, methinks, is apter, more in season—