say truth, I went through a pretty severe course of novels last winter, when I had a sprained ancle."

"Ah! mamma has had the tea things placed under the walnut-tree!" cried Rosina joyfully, "How very pleasant."

CHAPTER XII.

A TEA-PARTY UNDER A WALNUT TREE.

MRS. Wellford had expected Huntley to return with her daughters, but she was rather surprised to see an addition of two gentlemen to the party, and still more surprised to be introduced to Lewis Pennington. As the son of an old and highly valued friend, and in some sort as a relation, she gave him a most cordial reception, and immediately expressed her hope that he and Mr. Russell would join their little tea-party. Every one was pleased with the idea of drinking tea out of doors; and Hannah, having laid aside her bonnet and parasol, took her accustomed seat as president.

So many inquiries after Stoke Barton friends required answers from Lewis, that the picture was at first forgotten. Mr. Russel at length looked round for it, and Huntley brought it from the house.

Mr. Russell was even more struck with the painting than had been expected, and seemed scarcely to know which most to praise, the design or the execution. Huntley was gratified by his criticisms, which were those of a man of taste though not a connoisseur. Lewis was disposed to be pleased with every thing, yet he could not make due allowances for the first stage of colour, and cavilled at the brickdust hue of Orpah's complexion. He said he should like to have been reminded of Sir Joshua Reynolds's colouring, rather than of the dirty Jewesses in Monmouth-street, and advised Mr. Huntley to inquire of Fuseli where "a velvet brush dipped in honey" to be found. He should paint Miss Rosina Wellford's portrait with no other. Rosina said "pshaw !" but Lewis did not think she looked very angry. They were now summoned by Hannah to the tea-table.

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was

And pray, Lewis, how came Summerfield to be honoured
H*

by your presence ?" inquired Mrs. Wellford; "was this excursion premeditated, or al improviso?"

He laughed and replied, "Oh, there was nothing to keep me at home, and Russell had written such fluent praises of this part of the country, that I thought I should like to come and look about me. Next year I shall travel; and it is foolish of a man to go abroad before he has seen his own country."

"Are you going then, to make the tour of England ?"

"Why-I don't exactly know about that-I shall probably go a little further west, and loiter about for a few weeks, here and there, wherever I find any thing to please me."

"How extremely like he is to his mother!" said Mrs. Wellford to Mr. Russell. The same eyes

"Not quite," said Lewis, "her's are dark blue, and mine are grey, I do not wish my eyes to deceive you, ma'am, even in colour."

"And yet, again, your nose is certainly something of the doctor's

"I had rather be like him in any thing else," observed Lewis slily. "What do you say, Rosina? You have seen my father since Mrs. Wellford has. Are our noses alike ?"

I am sure I do not know," said Rosina, in a tone as if she had never seen a nose in her life. '"' said

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Betwixt eyes and nose a strange contest arose,' Lewis, laughing; "and I deny that mine has that venerable arch in the middle, or that rotundity at the lower extremity which characterizes my father's organ of scent. Nay, if I have any vanity, it is of this very feature; and when I swear, (which I assure you, ladies, is but seldom,) it is always 'by my nose.'

"You need not be affronted, Lewis, at being thought like your father, for at the time I married, he was a very hand

some man.'"

"So he is still, for his age; but my mother, I think, is more altered, though her manner is as full of cheerfulness and sweetness as ever. Her's has been a life of more anxiety and care; she has had a large family to attend to, and a great deal of ill health. Thank God, she is now tolerably well, but I do not know what she would have done with us all if it had not been for Mademoiselle Mackau."

"Your mother was a charming woman when I knew her." So she is, ma'am, to this day. I did not always know her value. Rosina may remember that, as children, we al

ways had her rather more in dread than my father. Well, when I had been from home a few months, I began, like many other fools, to think it was exceedingly weak of me to be held any longer in petticoat thraldom, and resolved quietly to throw aside the yoke at the first opportunity. Will you believe it? -on returning with my tastes somewhat matured, and my knowledge of men and women more enlarged, I found my self for the first time capable of appreciating this admirable mother, and aware of the distinction of possessing her friendship. Stay, surely she charged me with a letter to you. I believe it is in my portmanteau. Is this it?-Oh no, this is one to you, Rosina, from Marianne, which had slipped my memory. I now recollect her stuffing something into my pocket just as I was mounting my horse, with some injunction which I had not time to listen to."

"For shame!" cried Rosina, tearing it open, "I dare say you have forgotten some message which I should have thought of great importance."

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If I had known it had been for you," replied he, "I would have paid more attention to her, certainly, but I thought she had merely been giving me some biscuits to prevent my starving on the road. Marianne has always so many 'last words' when I am on the point of setting out on a ride, either a charge to scold the woman at the library for not sending her the last volume of some novel, or a message to the milliner, or a note to drop at aunt Margaret's, that I now only hear her mechanically, and cry ay, ay, depend upon me,' without being quite clear whether I am to go to the aunt's, the milliner's, or the librarian's."

You do not deserve such a sister as Marianne, I am afraid, Lewis," said Mr. Russell.

"Nobody deserves her!" replied he with energy.

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Nobody in Stoke Barton, you mean. I hope she is not of your way of thinking."

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Pretty nearly so, I believe-she is inexorable.”

"Rosina used to describe you and your sister Marianne as nearly inseparable," said Hannah.

"So we are still, when I am at home," replied he. "My father says that Marianne-and-Lewis seem always connected with hyphens.

"Quite like Viola and Sebastian," said Huntley.

"Not exactly," said Lewis-"their resemblance was more of person than mind-ours is more of mind than person." Rosina had now hastily skimmed the contents of her letter.

red;

A few lines towards the conclusion made her blush rosy and wishing to appear unconcerned, she said as she folded it "You seem to have had a very gay spring at Stoke Bar

up,

ton."

"Such gaiety as a country town always affords," answered Lewis a regular succession of parties, beginning with the Sewards and ending with the Trotters."

"Seward? Trotter ?" repeated Mrs. Wellford-"there were no such names in the town when I left Park-Place."

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And yet we count them among our old established set now. Oh, there are many among us, compared with whom, the Sewards and Trotters are quite antique. I dare say, Mrs. Wellford, you would hardly know Stoke Barton again—four or five-and-twenty years in these stirring times make an immense difference. I myself can recollect when we had neither circulating library, music shop, nor savings' bank; when Cotton-row was not built; when there was only one pastrycook's, one linen-draper's, and one tallow-chandler's! Now we have two handsome inns, two apothecaries, a physician, and a silversmith ! Does not that speak for the growing importance of Stoke Barton? But you would see no alteration in Park-Place. It stands aloof from the town with the same demure dignity as ever, and the stately old trees have not as yet become the prey of a thriftless heir. Young James Parkinson, perhaps, may make the axe play amongst them freely some of these days."

I hope not," said Mrs. Wellford.

So do I," said Lewis,

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'for I have lain so often under their shade, that I look upon them in some measure as my own property."

"If such a claim as that could be made good in a court of law," said Huntley, I should have as pretty an estate as

any man in the kingdom."

" and

"Possession is nine points of the law," said Lewis, there is many a nook in the woods of Park-Place which I and the squirrels have hitherto had to ourselves; a certain bank, in particular, that will always be associated in my mind. with Froissart."

"Ah! how often have I wished to read Froissart!" exclaimed Rosina.

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ley.

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I think you would be disappointed in him," said Hunt

"I can

Disappointed in Froissart!" exclaimed Lewis. only say that I devoured his pages with the keenest delight,

and that his chronicle appeared to me the most vivid and entertaining picture of the times that could well be imagined." "And what times were they?" rejoined Huntley. "Times when every public and private duty was violated and the most atrocious crimes committed without exciting surprise." "Times full of romantic incident, however," said Lewis.

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Yes, the incidents were romantic; but Froissart has a dry, uninteresting way of telling them. How much more he might have made of some of his stories, by inserting some particulars and omitting many others!"

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You are difficult to please, sir. To me, I must confess, his gossipping style has something quaint, racy, and delightful. He tells you the whole affair from beginning to end, so that it seems to rise before your eyes-how that Sir John Chandos sat at meat when young Earl Pembroke's page, after a night of peril, brought him the token ring-how he washed his hands, and sat moodily deliberating before he resolved to forget old affronts and go to the earl's assistance. All this gives a great deal of spirit and life—"

But does not argue much more genius for narration than that possessed by every old nurse. He makes no selection A modern writer would select."

"And leave nothing but the bare skeleton" said Lewis. "I like dead heroes to stand before me in all the reality of flesh and blood. How I revelled over the exploits of that old Sir John Chandos! And how I loved the pleasant stories of Sir Espaign de Lyon as he and Froissart rode at a bridle pace beside some fair river! How I enjoyed the gossipry of the gallant squires and pages, as they sat round the fire at the court of Bearn, each man telling his tale of war or love! How my blood curdled at the murder of little Gaston de Foix! Do you find any thing more poetical in Chaucer? Ah! a man must be fastidious who cannot relish Froissart! How say you Russell ?"

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To tell you the truth, Lewis," replied Mr. Russell, “I never read Froissart!"

The tea equipage being now removed, Hannah brought her mother's work-bag and her own netting from the parlour, and accepted Lewis's offer of holding the skein of silk she was about to wind. On looking round when his task was half finished, Lewis perceived that Mr. Huntley was helping Rosina to water her flowers, and he immediately began to wish himself at liberty. As soon as he was released, he walked towards the flower border, and seeing a pretty rose, he stopped to gather it.