ean by the wealth of green plants
they covered.

This was the residence Grantley Mellen had inherited from a maternal
uncle just after his first struggle in life commenced. It was backed by
many a fruitful field and broad stretch of timber-land, which altogether
went under the title of Piney Cove.

Grantley Mellen, since he became possessed of the estate, had completed
the work his uncle commenced when he built the two grand towers, and a
more picturesque building could not well be imagined, with its broad
lawn, its clumps of forest trees, and that magnificent ocean view, which
was broken only by the pine groves on the two points.

This was by no means the only house visible from the cove. As you turned
the southern point, a village was seen down the coast; and about half
way between that and the pines was a wooden house, brown and
weather-beaten, standing unsheltered on the bleak shore. Back of this
house, shutting out all prospect but that of the ocean, was a tall
cliff, covered with ragged yellow pines and stunted cedars, from which
on stormy nights many a quivering flame had shot upward, luring ships to
their ruin. Still, with this grim protest against the name looming
behind it, the lonely old house was called "The Sailor's Safe Anchor,"
and was known all along the coast as a fishing-lodge and small tavern.

But once within the cove, you saw no sign of habitation save the mansion
house and its appurtenances.

Grantley Mellen had been some weeks at the cove, renovating and
preparing the house for the reception of his bride; for it was
understood that he intended henceforth to make it his permanent
residence. But the wedding-day was near, and he had gone up to the city,
leaving the last preparations to the care of a singular class of
household servants, one of his uncle's philanthropic importations from
the South, where he had owned a plantation, and emancipated all its
slaves except a half dozen, that would only accept liberty on condition
that they might follow the old man to his northern home.

Grantley had accepted this sable household with the general inheritance;
for, spoiled and pampered as family negroes are apt to be, they had
proved generally faithful and obedient.

Though a very reverential and submissive person when her master was
present, Clorinda, who had appointed herself housekeeper of the
establishment, was apt to get on to a very high horse indeed when there
was no superior authority to hold