He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. "Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. Which is the nearest way to the river?" "Why, it's an awkward road to direct you," returned Jonathan. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. This left Spurlock alone. ‘I was just looking the place over when I heard you calling out. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation. CHAPTER XXII.
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