CHAPTER I.   Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place  Of Blanch, the lady of the matchless grace?—LAMB. IT was towards the evening of a day in early April that two ladies were seated by the open windows of a cottage in Devonshire. The lawn before them was gay with evergreens, relieved by the first few flowers and fresh turf of the reviving spring; and at a distance, through an opening... more...

CHAPTER I.   ABROAD uneasy, nor content at home.    . . . . . .  And Wisdom shows the ill without the cure. HAMMOND: Elegies. TWO or three days after the interview between Lord Vargrave and Maltravers, the solitude of Burleigh was relieved by the arrival of Mr. Cleveland. The good old gentleman, when free from attacks of the gout, which were now somewhat more frequent than formerly, was the... more...

CHAPTER I.   . . . SHE is young, wise, fair,  In these to Nature she's immediate heir.  . . . . . .  . . . Honours best thrive  When rather from our acts we them derive  Than our foregoers!—All's Well that Ends Well. LETTER FROM ERNEST MALTRAVERS TO THE HON. FREDERICK CLEVELAND. EVELYN is free; she is in Paris; I have seen her,—I see her daily! How true it is that we cannot... more...

CHAPTER I.   . . . THIS ancient city,  How wanton sits she amidst Nature's smiles!   . . . Various nations meet,  As in the sea, yet not confined in space,  But streaming freely through the spacious streets.—YOUNG.   . . . His teeth he still did grind,  And grimly gnash, threatening revenge in vain.—SPENSER. "PARIS is a delightful place,—that is allowed by all. It is... more...

CHAPTER I.   Luce. Is the wind there?           That makes for me.  Isab. Come, I forget a business.                 Wit without Money. LORD VARGRAVE'S travelling-carriage was at his door, and he himself was putting on his greatcoat in his library, when Lord Saxingham entered. "What! you are going into the country?" "Yes; I wrote you word,—to see Lisle... more...

CHAPTER I.   THERE is continual spring and harvest here—    Continual, both meeting at one time;  For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear,    And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime;  And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,    Which seem to labour under their fruit's load. SPENSER: The Garden of Adonis.                     Vis boni  In ipsa... more...

CHAPTER I.   Do as the Heavens have done; forget your evil;  With them, forgive yourself.—The Winter's Tale.   . . . The sweet'st companion that e'er man  Bred his hopes out of.—Ibid. THE curate of Brook-Green was sitting outside his door. The vicarage which he inhabited was a straggling, irregular, but picturesque building,—humble enough to suit the means of the curate,... more...

CHAPTER I.   YOU still are what you were, sir!    . . . . . .  . . . With most quick agility could turn  And return; make knots and undo them,  Give forked counsel.—Volpone, or the Fox. BEFORE a large table, covered with parliamentary papers, sat Lumley Lord Vargrave. His complexion, though still healthy, had faded from the freshness of hue which distinguished him in youth. His features,... more...