and that for utterances cathedral in sentiment and sonorousness,
these ladies shed protecting beams; insomuch that he was inspired to the
agreeable conceptions whereof frequently rash projects are an issue.

Touching the neighbours of Lakelands, they were principally enriched
merchants, it appeared; a snippet or two of the fringe of aristocracy lay
here and there among them; and one racy-of-the-soil old son of Thames,
having the manners proper to last century's yeoman. Mr. Pempton knew
something of this quaint Squire of Hefferstone, Beaves Urmsing by name; a
ruddy man, right heartily Saxon; a still glowing brand amid the ashes of
the Heptarchy hearthstone; who had a song, The Marigolds, which he would
troll out for you anywhere, on any occasion. To have so near to the
metropolis one from the centre of the venerable rotundity of the country,
was rare. Victor exclaimed 'Come!' in ravishment over the picturesqueness
of a neighbour carrying imagination away to the founts of England; and
his look at Nataly proposed. Her countenance was inapprehensive. He
perceived resistance, and said: 'I have met two or three of them in the
train: agreeable men: Gladding, the banker; a General Fanning; that man
Blathenoy, great billbroker. But the fact is, close on London, we're
independent of neighbours; we mean to be. Lakelands and London
practically join.'

'The mother city becoming the suburb,' murmured Colney, in report of the
union.

'You must expect to be invaded, sir,' said Mr. Sowerby; and Victor
shrugged: 'We are pretty safe.'

'The lock of a door seems a potent security until some one outside is
heard fingering the handle nigh midnight,' Fenellan threw out his airy
nothing of a remark.

It struck on Nataly's heart. 'So you will not let us be lonely here,' she
said to her guests.

The Rev. Septimus Barmby was mouthpiece for congregations. Sound of a
subterranean roar, with a blast at the orifice, informed her of their
'very deep happiness in the privilege.'

He comforted her. Nesta smiled on him thankfully.

'Don't imagine, Mrs. Victor, that you can be shut off from neighbours, in
a house like this; and they have a claim,' said Lady Grace, quitting the
table.

Fenellan and Colney thought so:

'Like mice at a cupboard.'

'Beetles in a kitchen.'

'No, no-no, no!' Victor shook head, pitiful over the good people likened
to things unclean, and royally upraising them: in doing which, he
scattered to vapour the leaden in