" "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. Always at your service. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation web page at http://www.
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