ow to chastise pride, and vanity,
and the sinful lusts of the flesh." Whether it was that these seasons of
mortification became more frequent, or that they required more space,
we cannot say; but, in course of time, the hermitage extended its limbs,
first in one direction, and then in another, till at length it grew
to be a very commodious house, with ample rooms and every imaginable
comfort, Owing to the character of the architecture, too, it gained in
picturesque effect by these successive additions; and in its jutting
projections, its deep-shadowed courts, and its irregular line of roof,
it presented a very pleasing specimen of that half-Elizabethan cottage
so rarely hit upon in any regular plan. As the fortunes of the noble
house declined,--the Earl's ancestors had been amongst the most
extravagant of Irish gentry,--the ancient castle of Holt-Glengariff,
where they had long resided, was sold, and the family settled down to
live at the Hermitage. At first the change was supposed to be merely
temporary,--"they were going to live in London or in Brighton; they
were about to establish themselves in Paris; her Ladyship was ordered to
Italy,"--a variety of rumors, in fact, were afloat to explain that the
sunshine of their presence in that lonely glen would be but brief and
short-lived. All the alterations that might be made in the cottage or
its grounds, all the facilities of approach by land and water, all the
beneficial changes in the village itself, were alluded to as projects
for the day when they would come back there; for my Lord said he
"really liked the place,"--a species of avowal that was accepted by the
neighborhood as the proudest encomium man could pronounce upon their
"happy valley."

With all these plans and intentions, it was now eighteen years, and
the Earl had never quitted the Hermitage for any longer journey than
an occasional trip to Dublin. The Countess had taken a longer road
than that over the Alps, and lay at rest in the village churchyard. The
Ladies Georgina, Arabella, and Julia had married off, and none remained
but Lady Augusta Arden, of whom we have already made brief mention to
our readers in a former chapter.

We did but scant justice to Lady Augusta when we said that she had once
been handsome: she was so still. She had fine eyes and fine teeth; a
profusion of brown hair of the very silkiest; her figure was singularly
graceful; and, baring a degree of haughtiness,--a family trait,--her
m