The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass.
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