, which has been lost in
that great Babel. I must go violeting--it is a necessity--and I must go
alone: the sound of a voice, even my Lizzy's, the touch of Mayflower's
head, even the bounding of her elastic foot, would disturb the serenity
of feeling which I am trying to recover. I shall go quite alone, with
my little basket, twisted like a bee-hive, which I love so well, because
SHE gave it to me, and kept sacred to violets and to those whom I love;
and I shall get out of the high-road the moment I can. I would not meet
any one just now, even of those whom I best like to meet.

Ha!--Is not that group--a gentleman on a blood-horse, a lady keeping
pace with him so gracefully and easily--see how prettily her veil waves
in the wind created by her own rapid motion!--and that gay, gallant
boy, on the gallant white Arabian, curveting at their side, but ready to
spring before them every instant--is not that chivalrous-looking party
Mr. and Mrs. M. and dear R? No! the servant is in a different livery. It
is some of the ducal family, and one of their young Etonians. I may go
on. I shall meet no one now; for I have fairly left the road, and am
crossing the lea by one of those wandering paths, amidst the gorse, and
the heath, and the low broom, which the sheep and lambs have made--a
path turfy, elastic, thymy, and sweet, even at this season.

We have the good fortune to live in an unenclosed parish, and may
thank the wise obstinacy of two or three sturdy farmers, and the lucky
unpopularity of a ranting madcap lord of the manor, for preserving the
delicious green patches, the islets of wilderness amidst cultivation,
which form, perhaps, the peculiar beauty of English scenery. The common
that I am passing now--the lea, as it is called--is one of the loveliest
of these favoured spots. It is a little sheltered scene, retiring, as it
were, from the village; sunk amidst higher lands, hills would be
almost too grand a word; edged on one side by one gay high-road, and
intersected by another; and surrounded by a most picturesque confusion
of meadows, cottages, farms, and orchards; with a great pond in one
corner, unusually bright and clear, giving a delightful cheerfulness
and daylight to the picture. The swallows haunt that pond; so do the
children. There is a merry group round it now; I have seldom seen it
without one. Children love water, clear, bright, sparkling water; it
excites and feeds their curiosity; it is motion and life.

The