vonshire.

The arrival of Mrs. Horace Barton from Calcutta had been quite
unexpected at the Willows, as no preparatory letter had announced her
intentions or arrival in England. Nevertheless she found all delighted
to receive her. She had spent the most of her visit to Europe in the gay
capitals of Paris and London, and a couple of months was all the time
she could spare to remain in Devonshire.

On her first visit she had not been introduced to Miss Effingham, and
had only caught a casual glance at her while crossing the lawn, as Edith
was returning from a visit to Julia Barton; but on this occasion was
determined to become acquainted with her, and find out if she really
deserved the high encomiums that had been bestowed upon her by Arthur
Carlton. She had anticipated seeing a pretty lively English country
girl, but was totally unprepared for the brilliant beauty and perfectly
self-possessed manners of Edith, and she always found an attentive
listener in her to all she had to relate on the subject of India and
Arthur Carlton whenever they met, which was now frequent, for an
introduction had taken place between them very shortly after her
arrival, and they consequently became on the most intimate and friendly
footing. The magnificence of the ancestral dwelling of the Colemans,
with its Parks, Parterres and grounds, was quite a novelty to Pauline
Barton, and with Edith she traversed the long corridors, picture
galleries, and armories with wonderment, for they contrasted strangely
with the Pagodas, Temples, and Bungalows in the country where the
greater part of her life had been spent (for she had been born there),
and she thought that Edith's life must be one of never-ending delight,
and for a time it was so, but a sad change was about to come over the
bright spirit of her dream of happiness for a time, and perhaps for
ever, and dash the cup of joyous light-heartedness from her grasp.

The event so much desired by the man of law took place at a much earlier
date than had been anticipated by that gentleman, or, indeed, by any one
of his acquaintances as the sequel will show.

"Reynolds," said the Baronet, one evening after dinner, some few weeks
after his interview with his worthy cousin, the heir to the title,
"place candles in my study, and you need not wait up for me. It is
likely that I shall sit writing to a late hour." The old servant bowed,
and retired to do the bidding of his master.

After affectionately wis