waiter. She took it and tore it open; and while she is reading
it, the reader may be introduced to the place and company in
which we find her. The scene is a large old-fashioned square
brick house, backed by fine trees, in the tops of which the rooks
live, and the jackdaws and starlings in the many holes which time
has worn in the old trunks; but they are all away on this fine
summer morning, seeking their meal and enjoying themselves in the
neighbouring fields. In the front of the house is a pretty flower
garden, separated by a haw-haw from a large pasture, sloping
southwards gently down to a stream, which glides along through
water-cress and willow beds to join the Kennet. The beasts have
all been driven off, and on the upper part of the field, nearest
the house, two men are fixing up a third pair of targets on the
rich short grass. A large tent is pitched near the archery
ground, to hold quivers and bow-cases, and luncheon, and to
shelter lookers-on from the mid-day sun. Beyond the brook, a
pleasant, well-timbered, country lies, with high chalk-downs for
an horizon, ending in Marlborough hill, faint and blue in the
west. This is the place which Mary's father has taken for the
summer and autumn, and where she is fast becoming the pet of the
neighborhood.

It will not perhaps surprise our readers to find that our hero
has managed to find his way to Barton Manor in the second week of
the vacation, and having made the most of his opportunities, is
acknowledged as a cousin by Mr. and Mrs. Porter. Their boys are
at home for the holidays, and Mr. Porter's great wish is that
they should get used to the country in their summer holidays. And
as they have spent most of their childhood and boyhood in London,
to which he has been tied pretty closely hitherto, this is a
great opportunity. The boys only wanted a preceptor, and Tom
presented himself at the right moment, and soon became the hero
of Charley and Neddy Porter. He taught them to throw flies and
bait crawfish nets, to bat-fowl, and ferret for rabbits, and to
saddle and ride their ponies, besides getting up games of cricket
in the spare evenings, which kept him away from Mr. Porter's
dinner-table. This last piece of self-denial, as he considered
it, quite won over that gentleman, who agreed with his wife that
Tom was just the sort of companion they would like for the boys,
and so the house was thrown open to him.

The boys were always clamouring for him when he was aw