family at Riverton Park was
soon left pretty much to itself, just exchanging civil calls now and
then with the principal neighbours, and being left out of the circle of
fashionable intimacy.

Three families, however, kept up a closer acquaintance, which ripened,
more or less, into friendship. About a mile and a half from the Park,
on the side that was farthest from Franchope, lived Mr Arthur Wilder, a
gentleman of independent means, with a wife, a grown-up son, and three
daughters. Horace Jackson was soon on the most intimate terms with
young Wilder, and with his sisters, who had the reputation of being the
most earnest workers in all good and benevolent schemes, so that in them
the clergyman of their parish had the benefit of three additional right
hands; while their parents and brother gave time, money, and influence
to many a good cause and useful institution.

Adjoining the Riverton estate, in the direction of Franchope, was, as
has been already stated, the property of the elderly Miss Stansfield,
whose niece, Mary, has been introduced to our readers. The old lady was
an early caller on the colonel's family, having made a special effort to
rouse herself to pay the call, as she rarely left her own grounds. She
at once took to Colonel Dawson; and, whether or no the liking was
returned on his part, he frequently visited his infirm neighbour, and
would spend many a quiet hour with her, to her great satisfaction. The
old lady was one who wished to do good, and did it, but not graciously.
So she had won respect and a good name among her dependants, but not
love. The world called her selfish, but the world was wrong. She was
self-absorbed, but not selfish in the ordinary sense of the term. She
acted upon principle of the highest kind; her religion was a reality,
but she had been used ever to have her own way, and could not brook
thwarting or contradiction; while her ailments and infirmities had
clustered her thoughts too much round herself, and had generated a
bitterness in her manner and speech, which made the lot of her niece,
who was her constant companion, a very trying one.

To the north of Riverton Park was the estate of Lady Willerly. Her
ladyship was one of those impetuous characters who are never content
unless they are taking castles by storm; she must use a hatchet where a
penknife would answer equally well or better. She was a widow, and
dwelt with her only child Grace, a grown-up daughter, in her f