icent forest-trees, their trunks partially concealed by
plantations of rare and beautiful shrubs, a sudden turn of the road
brought us in front of the Priory--an ancient, venerable-looking pile
of building, which had evidently, as its name implied, once belonged to
some religious community. The alterations it had undergone, in order to
adapt it to its present purpose, had been carried out with more taste
and skill than are usually met with in such cases. The garden, with its
straight terrace-walks and brilliant flower-beds, contrasted well
with the grey stone of which the building was composed, while the
smooth-shaven lawn, with an old, quaintly carved sundial in the centre,
and, above all, the absence of any living creature whatsoever, imparted
an air of severe formality to the scene, which, as the eye rested
upon it, seemed to realise all one had read of monastic discipline and
seclusion; and one half expected to see a train of dark-veiled nuns or
sandalled friars winding slowly forth from the hall-door.

~147~~"What a singular old shop!" exclaimed my companion, regarding the
structure with a look of displeased criticism; "wretched little windows
as ever I saw; they must be all in the dark inside on a dull day, and
every day would be dull if one lived there, I should think. It would
puzzle a fellow to tell whether that building was clerical or lay, fish
or flesh; a castle that had taken a serious turn, or a church out for
the day in plain clothes; how people can like to live in such a mouldy,
rusty, musty old barn, that looks as full of ghosts as a cheese is of
mites, I can't conceive."

"There certainly is an appearance of gloom and loneliness about the
place," replied I; "but I think it is chiefly owing to the absence of
any living object--a herd of deer in the park, a group of children and
dogs playing on the lawn--anything to give animation to the picture,
would be the greatest improvement."

"I should just think it would," returned Lawless. "Fancy a pack of
hounds under that jolly old oak yonder, the huntsman and whips in their
bits of pink, and a field of about fifty of the right sort of fellows
on thorough-breds, dawdling about, talking to one another, or taking
a canter over the turf, just to settle themselves in the saddle; that
would be a sight to make old Vernor look a little better pleased than he
did last night, sing out for his boots and buckskins, and clap his leg
over the first four-footed beast that