rst opening went out again into the road, where the
sun was uninterrupted in his gaze, and her few fanciful thoughts took
flight.

She glanced furtively into one or two cottages as she passed them, and
the absence of all inmates seemed to reproach her for her Sunday evening
falsehood. At last she reached a small cross-road or lane, down which
she turned, heedless of the profusion of wild roses that actually
canopied the way. Another path, narrower still, and thickly bordered
with blackberry bushes in full blossom, brought her to what seemed a
large mass of brambles, low underwood, and occasional young oaks. There
were, however, little patches of grass here and there amongst the
thicket, and into one of these she got with some difficulty. This was
the hall from which diverged one or two little passages, that looked so
dark, narrow, and brambly, that they appeared inaccessible. But Netta
managed to push aside some briars with her parasol and enter one. Almost
at her first footstep she tore her pretty muslin dress, but folding it
closer round her, she pushed her way. The smart pink bonnet was in great
danger, but escaped uninjured.

At last she found herself on the brink of a deep ravine, almost
precipitous, and heard the sound of rushing water beneath her. Large,
gloomy trees outspread their brawny arms on each side of this gorge and
lovingly embraced above it, so that the rays of the sun were again
thwarted in their purpose, and turned and twisted about before they
could glance upon the dark waters below.

Netta did not know all the tangles and tears she was to meet with when
she set out on her walk. She had not visited this spot for some time,
and then she had taken a more frequented path, on the other side of the
ravine. She looked around, and down into the depth below, but she could
see nothing but trees and brushwood. She was not strong-minded, so she
began to be afraid. However, summoning up her courage, she pushed into
a kind of broken stony path, down the side of the gully, and at the
expense of a few more rents in the muslin dress, and some scratches on
her hands, she succeeded in scrambling to the bottom.

Here was a wild and beautiful scene. A waterfall rolled from a height,
over rocks and brushwood, down into a foaming stream beneath, that
rushed, in its turn, over huge stones through the dark ravine.

As Netta stood almost at the base of the waterfall, and on the edge of
the rapid brook, something like r