ght hand, Sir Denzil Calmady gazes
meditatively down. Delicate, coral-like tendrils of the Virginian
creeper, which covers the house walls, and strays over the bay windows
of the Long Gallery below, twine themselves yearly about his ankles and
his square-toed shoes. The swallows yearly attempt to fix their gray,
mud nests against the flutings of the scallop-shell canopy sheltering
his bowed head; and are yearly ejected by cautious gardeners armed with
imposing array of ladders and conscious of no little inward reluctance
to face the dangers of so aerial a height.

And here, it may not be unfitting to make further mention of that same
little spot of darkness, germ of canker, echo of the cry of fear, that
had come to mar the fair records of Brockhurst For very certain it was
that among the varying scenes, moving merry or majestic, upon which Sir
Denzil had looked down during the two and a quarter centuries of his
sojourn in the lofty niche of the northern gable, there was one his
eyes had never yet rested upon--one matter, and that a very vital one,
to which had he applied his carpenter's rule the measure of it must
have proved persistently and grievously short.

Along the straight walks, across the smooth lawns, and beside the
brilliant flower-borders of the formal gardens, he had seen generations
of babies toddle and stagger, with gurglings of delight, as they
clutched at glancing bird or butterfly far out of reach. He had seen
healthy, clean-limbed, boisterous lads and dainty, little maidens laugh
and play, quarrel, kiss, and be friends again. He had seen ardent
lovers--in glowing June twilights, while the nightingales shouted from
the laurels, or from the coppices in the park below--driven to the most
desperate straits, to visions of cold poison, of horse-pistols, of
immediate enlistment, or the consoling arms of Betty the housemaid, by
the coquetries of some young lady captivating in powder and patches, or
arrayed in the high-waisted, agreeably-revealing costume which our
grandmothers judged it not improper to wear in their youth. He had seen
husband and wife, too, wandering hand in hand at first, tenderly
hopeful and elate. And then, sometimes, as the years lengthened,--they
growing somewhat sated with the ease of their high estate,--he had seen
them hand in hand no longer, waxing cold and indifferent, debating
even, at moments, reproachfully whether they might not have invested
the capital of their affections to b