The wind whistled around them , and the stars came out in the great ebony dome of the sky over the harbour . Laughter and song of the fishing folk were behind them , and the deep , solemn call of the sea before . Over the harbour gleamed the score of lights at Dalveigh . Rob looked from them to Nora . `` Do you think you 'll ever regret yon life , my girl ? '' `` Never , Rob . It seems to me now like a beautiful garment put on for a holiday and worn easily and pleasantly for a time . But I 've put it off now , and put on workaday clothes again . It is only a week since I left Dalveigh , but it seems long ago . Listen to the wind , Rob ! It is singing of the good days to be for you and me . '' He bent over and kissed her . `` My own dear lass ! '' he said softly . The Martyrdom of Estella Estella was waiting under the poplars at the gate for Spencer Morgan . She was engaged to him , and he always came to see her on Saturday and Wednesday evenings . It was after sunset , and the air was mellow and warm-hued . The willow trees along the walk and the tall birches in the background stood out darkly distinct against the lemon-tinted sky . The breath of mint floated out from the garden , and the dew was falling heavily . Estella leaned against the gate , listening for the sound of wheels and dreamily watching the light shining out from the window of Vivienne LeMar 's room .
The blind was up and she could see Miss XXXXX writing at her table .
Dalveigh Estella LeMar Morgan Rob days evenings harbour poplars week