een in the neighbourhood of Windsor; the fertility and
beauty of the country around now struck me with admiration, which encreased
as I approached the antique wood. The ruins of majestic oaks which had
grown, flourished, and decayed during the progress of centuries, marked
where the limits of the forest once reached, while the shattered palings
and neglected underwood shewed that this part was deserted for the younger
plantations, which owed their birth to the beginning of the nineteenth
century, and now stood in the pride of maturity. Perdita's humble dwelling
was situated on the skirts of the most ancient portion; before it was
stretched Bishopgate Heath, which towards the east appeared interminable,
and was bounded to the west by Chapel Wood and the grove of Virginia Water.
Behind, the cottage was shadowed by the venerable fathers of the forest,
under which the deer came to graze, and which for the most part hollow and
decayed, formed fantastic groups that contrasted with the regular beauty of
the younger trees. These, the offspring of a later period, stood erect and
seemed ready to advance fearlessly into coming time; while those out worn
stragglers, blasted and broke, clung to each other, their weak boughs
sighing as the wind buffetted them--a weather-beaten crew.

A light railing surrounded the garden of the cottage, which, low-roofed,
seemed to submit to the majesty of nature, and cower amidst the venerable
remains of forgotten time. Flowers, the children of the spring, adorned her
garden and casements; in the midst of lowliness there was an air of
elegance which spoke the graceful taste of the inmate. With a beating heart
I entered the enclosure; as I stood at the entrance, I heard her
voice, melodious as it had ever been, which before I saw her assured me of
her welfare.

A moment more and Perdita appeared; she stood before me in the fresh bloom
of youthful womanhood, different from and yet the same as the mountain girl
I had left. Her eyes could not be deeper than they were in childhood, nor
her countenance more expressive; but the expression was changed and
improved; intelligence sat on her brow; when she smiled her face was
embellished by the softest sensibility, and her low, modulated voice seemed
tuned by love. Her person was formed in the most feminine proportions; she
was not tall, but her mountain life had given freedom to her motions, so
that her light step scarce made her foot-fall heard as she tript a