e
amassed."

"True enough!" said Constance; and the conversation glided into remarks
on avaricious fathers and prodigal sons. Constance was witty on the
subject, and Lady Erpingham laughed herself into excellent humour.

It was considerably past noon when they arrived at the ruins.

The carriage stopped before a small inn, at the entrance of a dismantled
park; and, taking advantage of the beauty of the day, Lady Erpingham and
Constance walked slowly towards the remains of the Priory.

The scene, as they approached, was wild and picturesque in the extreme.
A wide and glassy lake lay stretched beneath them: on the opposite side
stood the ruins. The large oriel window--the Gothic arch--the broken,
yet still majestic column, all embrowned and mossed with age, were still
spared, and now mirrored themselves in the waveless and silent tide.
Fragments of stone lay around, for some considerable distance, and the
whole was backed by hills, covered with gloomy and thick woods of pine
and fir. To the left, they saw the stream which fed the lake, stealing
away through grassy banks, overgrown with the willow and pollard oak:
and there, from one or two cottages, only caught in glimpses, thin
wreaths of smoke rose in spires against the clear sky. To the right,
the ground was broken into a thousand glens and hollows: the deer-loved
fern, the golden broom, were scattered about profusely; and here and
there were dense groves of pollards; or, at very rare intervals, some
single tree decaying (for all round bore the seal of vassalage to Time),
but mighty, and greenly venerable in its decay.

As they passed over a bridge that, on either side of the stream,
emerged, as it were, from a thick copse, they caught a view of the small
abode that adjoined the ruins. It seemed covered entirely with ivy;
and, so far from diminishing, tended rather to increase the romantic and
imposing effect of the crumbling pile from which it grew.

They opened a little gate at the other extremity of the bridge, and in a
few minutes more, they stood at the entrance to the Priory.

It was an oak door, studded with nails. The jessamine grew upon either
side; and, to descend to a commonplace matter, they had some difficulty
in finding the bell among the leaves in which it was imbedded. When they
had found and touched it, its clear and lively sound rang out in that
still and lovely though desolate spot, with an effect startling and
impressive from its contrast. Th