He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. " "Take time to consider of it," replied Wood sulkily, "there's no hurry. She leaped suddenly at a desperate resolution, and in one moment had made it into a new self. In other respects, they were equally indecorous and offensive. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. If they become bad it is through inclination, not necessity.
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