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But, as he made no answer, he was removed. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. Hetty, who had periods of lucid expression, put the thing for her from her pillow. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. “Have you told anybody else?” Lucy asked. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn.
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