olour, that I have ever seen.

It would puzzle a gardener to surpass the elegance and delicacy of such
a nosegay.

Offerings like these did our miller's maiden delight to bring at all
seasons, and under all circumstances, whether of peace or war between
the heads of the two opposite houses; and whenever there chanced to be a
lull in the storm, she availed herself of the opportunity to add to her
simple tribute a dish of eels from the mill-stream, or perch from the
river. That the thought of Edward ("dear Edward," as she always called
him,) might not add somewhat of alacrity to her attentions to his
wayward aunt, I will not venture to deny, but she would have done the
same if Edward had not been in existence, from the mere effect of her
own peacemaking spirit, and a generosity of nature which found more
pleasure in giving than in possessing. A sweet and happy creature was
Cicely; it was difficult even for Mrs. Deborah to resist her gentle
voice and artless smiles.

Affairs were in this posture between the belligerents, sometimes war to
the knife, sometimes a truce under favour of Cissy's white flag, when
one October evening, John Stokes entered the dwelling of his kinswoman
to inform her that Edward's apprenticeship had been some time at an end,
that he had come of age about a month ago, and that his master, for whom
he had continued to work, was so satisfied of his talents, industry, and
integrity, that he had offered to take him into partnership for a sum
incredibly moderate, considering the advantages which such a connexion
would ensure.

"You have more than the money wanted in the Belford Bank, money that
ought to have been his," quoth John Stokes, "besides all your property
in land and houses and the funds; and if you did advance this sum, which
all the world knows is only a small part of what should have belonged to
him in right of his father, it would be as safe as if it was in the Bank
of England, and the interest paid half-yearly. You ought to give it
him out and out; but of course you won't even lend it," pursued this
judicious negotiator; "you keep all your money for that precious chap,
Mr. 'Dolphus, to make ducks and drakes with after you are dead; a fine
jig he'll dance over your grave. You know, I suppose, that we've got the
fellow in a cleft stick about that petition the other day? He persuaded
old Jacob, who's as deaf as a post, to put his mark to it, and when he
was gone, Jacob came to me (I'm the on