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"Thanks. I'll put it off for a night or two," says Nolly, sleepily.,"Who can it be?" asked the young man. "Who camps there alone, far from friends?",His tone is full of sadness and longing, and something akin to fear. He has been much in the world, and has seen many of its evil ways, and this is the result of his knowledge. As he gazes on and wonders at her marvellous beauty, for an instant (a most unworthy instant) he distrusts her. Yet surely never was more groundless doubt sustained, as one might know to look upon her eyes and mouth, for in the one lies honest love, and in the other firmness.,Must she go back for a candle? Must she pass again all those belted knights upon the staircase and in the upper gallery? No! rather will she brave the darkness of the more congenial library, and—but soft—what is that? Surely a tiny gleam of light is creeping to her feet from beneath the door of the room towards which she wends her way.,Perhaps Longfellow has more cleverly—and certainly more tenderly—than any other poet described the earlier approaches of the god of Love, when he says,—,Two of the most important lodges in the Blackfeet camp are known as the Īnĭs´kĭm lodges. Both are painted with figures of buffalo, one with black buffalo, and the other with yellow buffalo. Certain of the Īnĭs´kĭm are kept in these lodges and can be kept in no others.,Each bank and root of mossy tree is studded with pale primroses that gleam like stars when the morning rises to dim their lustre. My lady's straw-bed spreads its white carpet here and there; the faint twitter of birds is in the air, with "liquid lapse of murmuring streams;" every leaf seems bursting into life, the air is keen but soft, the clouds rest lightly on a ground of spotless blue; the world is awake, and mad with youthful glee as,Sat the lovers, and whispered together.',Then Mona rises, and they both come to the entrance of the small room, and stand where Lady Rodney can overhear what they are saying.,Even this is a small, if unconscious, cut, considering what objectionable curiosity he evinced about her name. But the Australian is above small cuts, for the good reason that he seldom sees them.,As she thus ponders within herself, Spice and Allspice, the two dogs, set up a simultaneous howl, and immediately afterwards a voice says, eagerly,—,Friday is fine, and towards nightfall grows still milder, until it seems that even in the dawn of October a summer's night may be born..