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“You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. " "Make an effort, Madam," cried Mrs. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. my first symphony!” Brown’s eyebrows rose skeptically. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr.
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