It was nearly six o'clock by this time, and Clarissa strolled into the
garden with her father while the table was being laid for dinner. There
were faint glimpses of russet here and there among the woods around Arden
Court, but it still seemed summer time. The late roses were in full bloom
in Mr. Lovel's fertile garden, the rosy apples were brightening in the
orchard, the plums purpling on a crumbling old red-brick wall that bounded
the narrow patch of kitchen-garden. Yes, even after Hale Castle the place
seemed pretty; and a pang went through Clarissa's heart, as she thought
that this too they might have to leave; even this humble home was not
secure to them.
Father and daughter dined together very pleasantly. Clarissa had been
almost happy by her father's unwonted tenderness, and Mr. Lovel was in
tolerable spirits, in spite of that dreary afternoon's labour, that
hopeless task of trying to find out some elastic quality in pounds,
shillings, and pence.
* * * * *
CHAPTER XVIII.
SOMETHING FATAL.
AT seven o'clock Mr. Level composed himself for his after-dinner nap, and
Clarissa, being free to dispose of herself as she pleased till about nine,
at which hour the tea-tray was wont to be brought into the parlour, put on
her hat and went out into the village. It would be daylight till nearly
eight, and moonlight after that; for the moon rose early, as Miss Lovel
remembered.
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