86
HEADLONG HALL.
you perceive, with wood, and with those massy stones scattered at random under the trees.
Miss Tenorina.
What a delightful spot to read in on a summer's day! The air must be so pure, and the wind must sound so divinely in the tops of those old pines!
Mr. Milestone.
Bad taste, Miss Tenorina. Bad taste, I assure you. Here is the spot improved. The trees are cut down: the stones are cleared away: this is an octagonal pavilion, exactly on the centre of the summit: and there you see Lord Littlebrain, on the top of the pavilion, enjoying the prospect with a telescope.
Squire Headlong.
Glorious, egad!
