as far as related to
Miss Effingham, but his wounded vanity he could afford to bear and hide
within his own breast, as he now confidently believed that Sir Jasper
would adopt the suggestions he had made to him, and settle, at least,
two or three thousand per annum on the successor to the Baronetcy during
the said successor's life; and in this frame of mind the Lawyer
determined to de vote himself entirely to his profession, and to avoid
the pretty Edith, Mrs. Fraudhurst, and Vellenaux, until the present
owner should have been gathered to his fathers.

There is perhaps no season of the year in the South of England so
pleasing to the eye or more genial to the corporeal faculties than that
of early autumn, especially that part of Devonshire which we have
selected for the opening and closing scene of our story. Vellenaux, with
its varied and picturesque styles of architecture, embosomed, as it
were, in rich woodlands, with a perfect amphitheatre of hills on three
sides, and ever and anon the soft breezes of the ocean sweeping over the
downs, and through the beech woods on the other. It was, indeed, a
domain of which any one might have been proud.

It was a lovely evening, the sun had just commenced to dip behind the
crest of the adjacent hills, and was sending its golden rays through the
bright foliage of the trees and down the long paths that led to the
woods hard by. Edith had strolled, book in hand, to her favourite knoll,
beneath a stately elm, and was engaged in reading. Her two favourite
dogs, fine specimens of the Italian greyhound, chased each other in
circles which gradually grew smaller until it brought them to the very
feet of their mistress. One placed his small smooth nose in the little
white hand that was thrown carelessly on the moss grown roots beside
her, while the other, to attract her attention, placed his paw on the
page she was reading and looked up in her face. Suddenly their ears
elongated and away they bounded, as the noise of horses hoofs were heard
approaching in her direction, aroused her from her recumbent position,
as Julia Barton, on her quiet little pony, trotted up. She was off in an
instant, and running up to her friend, greeted her in the animated,
lively way, as was her custom when she had anything to communicate that
she thought would please or interest her. "At your studies," she said,
taking up the volume that Edith had let fall on her appearance. "Long
engagements, a tale of the Affgh