Mrs. Crimsworth's face, a deep,
involuntary sigh announced my disappointment; she took it as a homage to
her beauty, and Edward, who was evidently proud of his rich and handsome
young wife, threw on me a glance--half ridicule, half ire.

"I turned from them both, and gazing wearily round the room, I saw two
pictures set in the oak panelling--one on each side the mantel-piece.
Ceasing to take part in the bantering conversation that flowed on
between Mr. and Mrs. Crimsworth, I bent my thoughts to the examination
of these pictures. They were portraits--a lady and a gentleman, both
costumed in the fashion of twenty years ago. The gentleman was in the
shade. I could not see him well. The lady had the benefit of a full beam
from the softly shaded lamp. I presently recognised her; I had seen this
picture before in childhood; it was my mother; that and the companion
picture being the only heir-looms saved out of the sale of my father's
property.

"The face, I remembered, had pleased me as a boy, but then I did not
understand it; now I knew how rare that class of face is in the world,
and I appreciated keenly its thoughtful, yet gentle expression. The
serious grey eye possessed for me a strong charm, as did certain lines
in the features indicative of most true and tender feeling. I was sorry
it was only a picture.

"I soon left Mr. and Mrs. Crimsworth to themselves; a servant
conducted me to my bed-room; in closing my chamber-door, I shut out all
intruders--you, Charles, as well as the rest.

"Good-bye for the present,

"WILLIAM CRIMSWORTH."

To this letter I never got an answer; before my old friend received it,
he had accepted a Government appointment in one of the colonies, and was
already on his way to the scene of his official labours. What has become
of him since, I know not.

The leisure time I have at command, and which I intended to employ
for his private benefit, I shall now dedicate to that of the public at
large. My narrative is not exciting, and above all, not marvellous;
but it may interest some individuals, who, having toiled in the same
vocation as myself, will find in my experience frequent reflections
of their own. The above letter will serve as an introduction. I now
proceed.

CHAPTER II.

A FINE October morning succeeded to the foggy evening that had witnessed
my first introduction to Crimsworth Hall. I was early up and walking in
the large park-like meadow surrounding the house. The autum