ottages on either side to make it look
imposing. When they went in, they entered a large hall, cool even on that
burning July day, with a black and white flag floor, and old settees
round the walls, and great jars of curious china, which were filled with
pot-pourrie. The dusky gloom was pleasant, after the glare of the street
outside; and the requisite light and cheerfulness were given by the peep
into the garden, framed, as it were, by the large door-way that opened into
it. There were roses, and sweet-peas, and poppies--a rich mass of color,
which looked well, set in the somewhat sombre coolness of the hall. All the
house told of wealth--wealth which had accumulated for generations, and
which was shown in a sort of comfortable, grand, unostentatious way. Mr.
Buxton's ancestors had been yeomen; but, two or three generations back,
they might, if ambitious, have taken their place as country gentry, so much
had the value of their property increased, and so great had been the amount
of their savings. They, however, continued to live in the old farm till Mr.
Buxton's grandfather built the house in Combehurst of which I am speaking,
and then he felt rather ashamed of what he had done; it seemed like
stepping out of his position. He and his wife always sat in the best
kitchen; and it was only after his son's marriage that the entertaining
rooms were furnished. Even then they were kept with closed shutters
and bagged-up furniture during the lifetime of the old couple, who,
nevertheless, took a pride in adding to the rich-fashioned ornaments and
grand old china of the apartments. But they died, and were gathered to
their fathers, and young Mr. and Mrs. Buxton (aged respectively fifty-one
and forty-five) reigned in their stead. They had the good taste to make no
sudden change; but gradually the rooms assumed an inhabited appearance, and
their son and daughter grew up in the enjoyment of great wealth, and no
small degree of refinement. But as yet they held back modestly from putting
themselves in any way on a level with the county people. Lawrence Buxton
was sent to the same school as his father had been before him; and the
notion of his going to college to complete his education was, after some
deliberation, negatived. In process of time he succeeded his father, and
married a sweet, gentle lady, of a decayed and very poor county family, by
whom he had one boy before she fell into delicate health. His sister had
married a man whose