s,--"in a glen, whose wild enclosure, bosomed
amongst deep woods, and washed by the Atlantic--"

"Are you devising an advertisement, sir?"

"The very thing I was doing, Miss Kellett. I was just sketching out a
rough outline of a short paragraph for the 'Post.'"

"But remember, sir, I want to possess this spot. I wish to be its
owner--"

"To dispose of, of course, hereafter,--to make a clear three, four, or
five thousand by the bargain, eh?"

"Nothing of the kind, Mr. Hankes. I mean to acquire enough--some one
day or other--to go back and dwell there. I desire to have what I shall
always, to myself at least, call mine--my home. It will be as a goal to
win, the time I can come back and live there. It will be a resting-place
for poor Jack when he returns to England."

Mr. Hankes paused. It was the first time Miss Kellett had referred to
her own fortunes in such a way as permitted him to take advantage of the
circumstance, and he deliberated with himself whether he ought not to
profit by the accident. How would she receive a word of advice from him?
Would it be well taken? Might it possibly lead to something more? Would
she be disposed to lean on his counsels; and, if so, what then? Ay, Mr.
Hankes, it was the "what then?" was the puzzle. It was true his late
conduct presented but a sorry emblem of that life-long fidelity he
thought of pledging; but if she were the clear-sighted, calm-reasoning
intelligence he believed, she would lay little stress upon what, after
all, was a mere trait of a man's temperament. Very rapidly, indeed, did
these reflections pass through his mind; and then he stole a glance at
her as she sat quietly sipping her tea, looking a very ideal of calm
tranquillity. "This cottage," thought he, "has evidently taken a hold
of her fancy. Let me see if I cannot turn the theme to my purpose."
And with this intention he again brought her back to speak of the spot,
which she did with all the eagerness of true interest.

"As to the association with the gifted spirit of song," said Mr. Hankes,
soaring proudly into the style he loved, "I conclude that to be somewhat
doubtful of proof, eh?"

"Not at all, sir. Spenser lived at a place called Kilcoleman, from
which he removed for two or three years, and returned. It was in this
interval he inhabited the cottage. Curiously enough, some manuscript
in his writing--part of a correspondence with the Lord-Deputy--was
discovered yesterday when I was there. It was co