a while the stately manners of your Spanish ancestors; I
could attempt, humbly, those of the British colonist; I haven't the
high-collared coat of the period, but I would do my best with the
high-collared language which has been preserved in literature. Pray take
my arm, and let me try."

Garda, looking merrily at the Doctor, accepted it.

"Arms were not taken in those days," said the Doctor, stiffly. "Ladies
were led, delicately led, by the tips of their fingers." He was not
pleased with Garda's ready acceptance; but they had kept her a child,
and she did not know. He flattered himself that it would be an easy
matter to bring about a withdrawal of that too freely accorded hand from
the northerner's arm; he, Reginald Kirby, man of the world and noted for
his tact, would be able to accomplish it. In the mean while, the hand
remained where it was.

Beyond the Levels they came to the edge of a bank. Below, the ground
descended sharply, and at some distance forward on the lower plateau
rose the great magnolias, lifting their magnificent glossy foliage high
in the air. "The Magnolia Grandiflora," said the Doctor, as if
introducing them. "You no doubt feel an interest in these
characteristically southern trees, Mr. Winthrop, and if you will walk
down there and stand under them for a moment--the ground is too wet for
your little shoes, Garda--you will obtain a very good idea of their
manner of growth."

Miss Thorne made no objection to this suggestion. But neither did she
withdraw her hand from Winthrop's arm.

"I can see them perfectly from here," answered that gentleman. "They are
like tremendous camellias."

"When they are in bloom, and all the sweet-bays too, it is superb," said
Garda; "then is the time to come here, the perfume is enchanting."

"Too dense," said the Doctor, shaking his head disapprovingly; "it's
fairly intoxicating."

"That is what I mean," Garda responded. "It's as near as I can come to
it, you know; I have always thought I should love to be intoxicated."

"What is your idea of it?" said Winthrop, speaking immediately, in order
to prevent the Doctor from speaking; for he saw that this gentleman was
gazing at Garda with amazement, and divined the solemnity his words
would assume after he should have got his breath back.

"I hardly know how to describe my idea," Garda was answering. "It's a
delicious forgetting of everything that is tiresome, an enthusiasm that
makes you feel as if you could do