er the fields. The skylarks soared above the upland
pastures, and a shower of song descended to the valley out of the
pearl-blue haze just lifting in a cloud from the hill-top. Presently the
blackbird flew from the apple-tree to feed beside the hedge, and the
larks dropped from the mist into the grass. But for the crackle of the
cottage fire as the keeper busied himself with the preparation of his
morning meal, and the rustle of a withered leaf as the blackbird moved
to and fro in the ditch, not a sound disturbed the silence of the dawn.
Soon the haze lifted, leaving the dew thick on the grass by the ditch,
and on the moss and the ivy in the hedgerow bank. The larks soared once
more into the sky; a robin sang wistfully in the ash; a brown wren, with
many a flick of her tiny wings and many a merry curtsy, hopped in and
out among the trees, trilling loudly a gleeful carol. The tits flew
hither and thither, twittering to each other as they flew. The
hedge-sparrows' metallic notes sounded clear amid all the varied music,
as the birds, moving among the hazels and gently flirting their wings,
pursued their coy mates from bough to bough. Through the raised curtain
of the mist the sun--a white globe hardly too brilliant to be boldly
looked at--illumined the dewy fields with its faint beams, till the
cloud-streaked sky became a clear expanse, and the blue and brown
countryside glowed with the splendour of a perfect morning. The wind
changed and freshened, so that the call of a farm labourer to his team
and the constant voice of the river were distinctly heard in the level
valley below the wood.

As the morning advanced, signs of unusual stir and bustle were apparent
in the neighbourhood of the lodge. Messengers came and went between the
cottage and the mansion at the bend of the river, or between the mansion
and the distant village. The keeper appeared at his door, and, after
satisfying himself that the lane seemed clean and well-kept, walked off
briskly in the direction of the "big house." Scarlet-coated horsemen,
and high-born maids and matrons, with all the medley of the Hunt in
their train, cantered along the winding road--a mirthful,
laughter-loving company. There were the General, stout and inelegant,
wont to take his fences carefully, who changed his weight-carrying
mount thrice during the day, and liked a gateway better than a thorny
hedge, and for the last fifteen years had never been in at the death;
and his wife, the