ntly has your heart
yielded--"

"It's vara like the mucous membrane," said the doctor.

"I'll break your neck with the decanter if you interrupt him again!"
exclaimed Power.

"For days I scarcely ever left the house," resumed Sparks, "watching to
catch one glance of the lovely Isabella. My farthest excursion was to the
little garden of the inn, where I used to set every imaginable species of
snare, in the event of her venturing to walk there. One day I would leave a
volume of poetry; another, a copy of Paul and Virginia with a marked page;
sometimes my guitar, with a broad, blue ribbon, would hang pensively from a
tree,--but, alas! all in vain; she never appeared. At length I took courage
to ask the waiter about her. For some minutes he could not comprehend what
I meant; but, at last, discovering my object, he cried out, 'Oh, No. 8,
sir; it is No. 8 you mean?'

"'It may be,' said I. 'What of her, then?'

"'Oh, sir, she's gone these three days.'

"'Gone!' said I, with a groan.

"'Yes, sir; she left this early on Tuesday with the same old gentleman and
the old woman in a chaise-and-four. They ordered horses at Dolgelly to meet
them; but I don't know which road they took afterwards.'

"I fell back on my chair unable to speak. Here was I enacting Romeo for
three mortal days to a mere company of Welsh waiters and chamber-maids,
sighing, serenading, reciting, attitudinizing, rose-plucking,
soliloquizing, half-suiciding, and all for the edification of a set of
savages, with about as much civilization as their own goats.

"'The bill,' cried I, in a voice of thunder; 'my bill this instant.'

"I had been imposed upon shamefully, grossly imposed upon, and would not
remain another hour in the house. Such were my feelings at least, and so
thinking, I sent for my servant, abused him for not having my clothes ready
packed. He replied; I reiterated, and as my temper mounted, vented every
imaginable epithet upon his head, and concluded by paying him his wages and
sending him about his business. In one hour more I was upon the road.

"'What road, sir,' said the postilion, as he mounted into the saddle.

"'To the devil, if you please,' said I, throwing myself back in the
carriage.

"'Very well, sir,' replied the boy, putting spurs to his horse.

"That evening I arrived in Bedgellert.

"The little humble inn of Bedgellert, with its thatched roof and earthen
floor, was a most welcome sight to me, after eleven hours' travell