and the whispering of the wind in the branches, made Ayton Priory seem to its visitors a perfect paradise.

Having ascertained from the servant that his master and mistress were at home, and ushered through the venerable old hall, and up the short oaken staircase, the banisters whereof were curiously carved throughout, and terminated in two lions, Sir John Morley and his son were warmly welcomed by Charles Abberley, who had not yet met his old friend.

"I was on the point," he said, "of riding over to Teynton to call on you: I have longed to do so, these three days, but I thought you would have quite enough to do without receiving visitors."

"I would have found time enough for you, Abberley, at all events," said his friend; "though certainly my days have been pretty well taken up in getting settled. But I think I have tolerably well succeeded at last."

"I am very glad to hear, Mr. Morley," said Col. Abberley, "that we are to have the pleasure of having you amongst us. My son takes the credit of not having intruded on you before to himself, but I can assure you that I had quite a difficulty in keeping him back."

"I don't know whether the young men of the present day read more than they used to do, Colonel," said Sir John, "but I am sure they buy more books than we could have afforded in our time. I sug

gested to Robert the propriety of adding a wing to my house for his library; how he has contrived to dispose of it, I can hardly think."

While Robert Morley and his friend were discussing the characters and histories of college acquaintance, and Sir John was consulted by Col. Abberley and his lady on various points of local arrangement, Mrs. Laxington, a widow lady who resided at Teynton, and having a moderate income and nothing to do, was as well acquainted with most of her neighbours' concerns as they were themselves, was announced.

"How do you do, Mrs. Abberley? How are you, Colonel? Ah, Sir John, glad to see you here! Really, Mr. Morley, it is quite a treat to have you amongst us again. Hot weather this-is it not? good for the hay they tell me- -but the walk here almost too warm. But I could not help coming, Mrs. Abberley, to thank you for our treat yesterday-don't know when I have enjoyed a day more; weather so clear and fine, and the place so pretty, and the party so pleasant; dear me! it was really enchanting."

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself," said Mrs. Abberley; "I left orders with the servants to give any assistance you might want."

"Thank you a thousand times-so they told me; but Mr. Tomkins is so clever at that sort of thing,. that really we wanted nothing at all. A little picnic at the Abbey," she added, explanatorily to Sir John Morley, who looked as if he did not compre

hend; "Mrs. Abberley was kind enough to give me leave to bring a small party; we came yesterday, and had dinner and tea: there was Mrs. Dixon, and her sons and four daughters, Dixon could not come very clever doctor he is, Col. Abberley, has immense practice; he would have liked it of all things-but he had to ride over to Mr. Jones, at Studham-he is in a bad way, I am afraid. They say he had three doctors with him last Fridayenough to kill any man, I think, and so I told Mrs. Dixon-but that was my little joke, you know, Colonel; well, that was six; young Tomkins, seven; Mr. and Mrs. Turner and Miss Turner, ten; John Williams and his sister, twelve; myself, thirteenwho else was there? I know there were fourteen, because we had put down thirteen at first, and then young Tomkins laughed, and said it would not be lucky-so clever of him, now, wasn't it? and then, you know, Mrs. Abberley, though I am quite above such old superstitions, one never knows what may revive them and one has heard strange things come of them; however, as I said to William Tomkins when we went out, don't you think, I said, that I mind any of that nonsense-but the more the merrier -and the dinner that will do for thirteen will do for fourteen. 'Oh no!' he said, 'I never thought you would care for such foolery-fit enough for the old superstitious fellows who built this place, but not for us now-a-days.' But, as I was saying,-who was the fourteenth? Oh! I know, old Mrs. Wyndham

a good old body she is-and as it is not often she goes out holiday-making, I thought it would be a charity to ask her, and so I did."

"I hope you found no inconvenience from your expedition," said Col. Abberley, by way of saying something.

"Oh dear, no: we came early-some walked, and some came on donkeys; then the young folks had a good game at blindman's buff in and out of the church and the square-I am sure I leant against one of the old pillars and laughed till I was fit to die and William Tomkins, so clever he is at making fun of everything, took off the odd ways of most of them as they played; and then we sat down to dinner under the old beech, and a very good dinner it was; it came in a donkey-cart-I had it cooked myself—and my servant Betty had all the trouble of getting it; (I always deal with Clarke, Mrs. Abberley, his mutton is a halfpenny a pound less than Jupp, and, I think, just as good,) then after dinner we had singing, and the gentlemen made speeches, and then they got up a little dance, while I made the kettle boil-and we all sat comfortably down to tea, and so came home about eight o'clock."

"I think we passed you," said Mrs. Abberley, "as we were returning from Studham, where we spent yesterday."

"Very likely, I think. Oh yes! I remember passing a carriage, and I said to young Tomkins, -whose can that be? It can't be the Abberleys, I

said, because they would hardly come back so early, but so it was you, after all? Well, you know, they say the abbey is haunted, and so, going back, Tomkins told us all manner of horrid ghost stories, till some of the girls were so frightened, that they hardly knew whether they were standing on their heads or on their feet. Now, I said, William-(I always call him William, Colonel, for I've known him ever since he was in arms)-I've promised to bring back these young ladies safe, and I won't have them frightened, I said, out of their senses. 'I frighten a lady?' says he-you know he is always very full of his compliments, 'I'd rather lose my own senses,' he says, than do that.' I suppose, Mr. Morley, you don't know young Tomkins?" inquired the lady abruptly.

"I think," said Robert, "I saw him once last winter, walking about in one of those rough coats which seem designed to bring a man as nearly as possible to the state of a bear; but further than this, I have not the honour of his acquaintance.”

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'Well, but Col. Abberley," said Mrs. Laxington, "I really quite want to hear what you think of us as a neighbourhood. Fine preacher, Mr. Wallis, isn't he? and I am sure, Mr. Morley, your brother made me cry so last sermon, that I hardly knew how to sit it out. Then, Mr. Jupp is a most excellent man, though I can't say I quite entirely agree with him, for you know, Sir John, I call myself a very good Churchwoman; but then, as I say, let's agree to differ on such little points; and old Mr. Tomkins,