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38 a refusal would be downright rude: nothing like putting a person under an obligation of doing what they wish. Our recluse said, "He must do himself the honour of inquiring if Lady Adelaide had taken cold." Off they rode, and left a blank behind. Etheringhame took up a book, and thought how much pleasanter it was to talk than to read. He walked out—looked at his watch—wondered it was not later—wished dinner were ready; in short, was in that most uncomfortable situation—of a young gentleman who has nothing to do: went to bed, and spent a restless night. "Very well managed," said Adelaide, as they rode that morning away from the pavilion. "I am sure," rejoined Merton, "I would not have gone in but for your promise about the shooting. Not a word did you say, though:—you won't find it so easy to take me in again." "Wait a little, my good brother, and when those manors are at my feet, you shall shoot over them till you have killed partridges enow for a pyramid." A single "humph"—much the same sort of