While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. There isn’t. . “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. “It is very doubtful,” he said. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved.
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