Sometimes it was the next house, sometimes a row of
houses, or its own wood-house, that stood in the way.
Of course, a study of the sun might be pursued out of doors. But in
summer, sunstroke would be likely to follow; in winter, neuralgia and
cold. And how could you consult your books, your dictionaries, your
encyclopaedias? There seems to be no hour of the day for studying the
sun. You might go to the East to see it at its rising, or to the West to
gaze upon its setting, but--you don't.
Here Elizabeth Eliza came to a pause. She had written five different
endings, and had brought them all, thinking, when the moment came, she
would choose one of them. She was pausing to select one, and
inadvertently said, to close the phrase, "you don't." She had not meant
to use the expression, which she would not have thought sufficiently
imposing,--it dropped out unconsciously,--but it was received as a close
with rapturous applause.
She had read slowly, and now that the audience applauded at such a
length, she had time to feel she was much exhausted and glad of an end.
Why not stop there, though there were some pages more? Applause, too,
was heard from the outside. Some of the gentlemen had come,--Mr.
Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John, with others,--and demanded
admission.
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