'Oh, you--you wicked Jack! Who would have thought it of you?' said Emily,
throwing her arms round the animal's neck. 'And at your age, too! This is
my old donkey,' she said, turning her dreamy eyes on Hubert. 'I used to
ride him every day until about two years ago. I love my dear old Jack, and
would not have him beaten for worlds, although he is so wicked as to break
the mowing-machine. Look what you have done to the flower-vase.' The animal
shook its long ears.
Hubert and Emily strolled down a long walk, wondering what they should talk
about.
'These are really very pretty grounds,' he said at last. 'I am sure I shall
enjoy myself immensely here.' The remark appeared to him to be of doubtful
taste, and he hastened to add, 'That is to say, if I have completely made
it up with my pretty cousin.'
'But you have not seen the place yet,' she said, speaking still with a
certain tremor in her voice. 'You haven't even seen the gardens. Come, and
I'll show them to you.'
Hubert would have preferred to walk with her through these ornamental
swards; and he liked the espalier apple-trees with which the garden was
divided better than the glare and heat of the greenhouses into which she
took him.
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