t or who is that, mother?"

"You remember I mentioned some time ago the names of a neighboring
nobleman and his niece, who lives with him. The man I allude to as Lord
Bilberry, but is now Earl of Cockletown. He was raised to this rank for
some services he rendered the government against the tories, who had
been devastating the country, and also against some turbulent papists
who were supposed to have privately encouraged them in their outrages
against Protestant life and property. He was a daring and intrepid man
when in his prime of life, and appeared to seek danger for its own sake.
He is now an old man, although a young peer, and was always considered
eccentric, which he is to the present day. Some people look upon him as
a fool, and others as a knave; but in balancing his claims to each, it
has never yet been determined on which side the scale would sink. He
is the proprietor of a little fishing village on the coast, and on this
account he assumed the title of Cockletown; and when he built himself a
mansion, as they term it, he would have it called by no other name than
that of Cockle Hall. It is true he laughs at the thing himself, and
considers it a good joke."

"And so it is," replied her son; "but what about the lady, his niece?"

"Why, she is a rather interesting person."

"Ahem! person!"

"Yes, about thirty-four or so; but she will inherit his property."

"And have you any notion of what that may amount to?" asked her
calculating son.

"I could not exactly say," she replied; "but I believe it is handsome.
A great deal of it is mountain, but they say there are large portions of
it capable of being reclaimed."

"But how can the estate go to her?"

"Simply because there is no other heir," replied his mother; "they are
the last of the family. It is not entailed."

"Thirty-four!" ruminated Woodward. "Well, I have seen very fine girls at
thirty-four; but in personal appearance and manner what is she like?"

"Why, perhaps a critical eye might not call her handsome; but the
general opinion on that point is in her favor. Her manners are
agreeable, so are her features; but it is said that she is fastidious
in her lovers, and has rejected many. It is true most of them were
fortune-hunters, and deserved no better success."

"But what do you call me, mother?"

"Surely not a fortune-hunter, Harry. Is not there your granduncle's
large property who is a bachelor, and you are his favorite."

"But don't you kno