Tales from Many Sources

r a great wave of the downs. Behind the village a chalk cliff rose white and dazzling, and the warm red brick of the houses

s square grey tower, over which grew a magnificent creeper w

and wall fruit, and boasted in particular one golden plum that was the parson's boast and pride. He had imported rich soi

the rich yeoman's son, who sighed in vain for her good graces. He was a domestic man, much given to

stress Betty at her best, was to see her in the hunting-field, for she rode like a bird, and was bright and ready as a pike-staff! There was

and hunting-boots, would take a whole handful of snuff, while

daughter was always at her best in whatever she put her hand to do; and the old

and wall were at the height of their glow. Betty Ives was str

ones walked in. Betty went eagerly forward to meet her with out-stretched hands.

Mary? and are you well? Ha

-seat and sighed, still reta

ot shake your head and smile; if you had the crawlings up the back that I experience, and the creepin

I am not tormented thus! My dear Mary, how c

e answered, shuddering. "I

ightened?" asked Betty

nerve like yours. The dark, the shot! the

. "We will not recall it," she said hastily. "Let us think on more agreeable topics. My

did you

Up at six this morning, for Dame Martha told me that, owing to my putting i

said Mary. "The hanging over the

o her friend. "But after all, to so weather-beaten a maid as myself, up and out in al

father any new

deed-Belton h

ak

man of the name of Johnstone, w

e but a rich man could ha

s yet, but each one of the four of surpassing beauty. One of t

. "And were there no coach-horses, no carriages? No symp

etty gravely. "I am sorry for it, a new neighbour w

n-gate, then a smart rap, as i

gate," said Miss

ur visitor has discovered, and he may knock till doomsday ere the sound reach the ears of Dame Ma

ssion of knocks f

ourself, Betty," cried Mary in a tone

iling, and disengaging herself from her frie

, however, suddenly changed in tone when the opening door d

m his horse and, bowing low, asked if he had the h

ll be in shortly," Mary Jones advanced, her eyes took in at a glance the whole distinguished appearance of the visitor, from the

him take charge of the horse, an

d. "But I find most people prefer our

seats a breach of etiquette in themselves, but she could make

viting her visitor to

to my friend Mistress Mary Jones, of Elm Cottage close by, but have not the h

he replied. "I have but now become t

eighbour,"

t honour," contin

said Mary, thinking with some pride that she could

y, but he never took his eyes off his young hostess,

he country round, the different meets of the hounds, the neighbours, the tradespeople, the horses. Time slipped away almo

se his daughter and her friend i

ed of John Johnstone's dress, warmed the sombre hue of fair Betty's lincoln green, and played on the blue and primrose of Mistress Mary's

neighbourly visits," said the good parson, exchanging his tie-wig for a c

golden plums," said Betty gaily as she fixed her white

er maid described

is eyes are dark blue, his nose a trifle arched, brows thick and square, a sweet mouth-a very sweet mouth-but wondrous stern all the same. But h