more vivid color than usual, against the deep blue
of the sky. It was May-day, and most hearts were stirred with a pleasant
feeling as of a holiday; not altogether a common day, though the shops
were all open, and business was going on as usual. The old be-thought
themselves of the days when they had gone a-Maying; and the young felt
less disposed to work, and were inclined to wander out in search of
May-flowers in the green meadows, or along the sunny banks of the river,
which surrounded the town. Early, very early considering the ten miles
she had ridden on her rough hill-pony, came a young country girl across
one of the ancient bridges, with a large market-basket on her arm,
brimful of golden May-flowers, set off well by their own glossy leaves,
and by the dark blue of her dress. She checked her pony and lingered for
a few minutes, looking over the parapet at the swift rushing of the
current through the narrow arches. A thin line of alders grew along the
margin of the river, with their pale green leaves half unfolded; and in
the midst of the swirling waters, parting them into two streams, lay a
narrow islet on which tall willow wands were springing, with soft, white
buds on every rod, and glistening in the sunshine. Not far away a lofty
avenue of lime-trees stretched along the banks, casting wavering shadows
on the brown river; while beyond it, on the summit of one of the hills
on which the town was built, there rose the spires of two churches built
close together, with the gilded crosses on their tapering points
glittering more brightly than anything else in the joyous light. For a
little while the girl gazed dreamily at the landscape, her color coming
and going quickly, and then with a deep-drawn sigh of delight she
roused herself and her pony, and passed on into the town.

The church clocks struck nine as she turned into Whitefriars Road, the
street where the old bank of Riversborough stood. The houses on each
side of the broad and quiet street were handsome, old-fashioned
dwelling-places, not one of which had as yet been turned into a shop.
The most eminent lawyers and doctors lived in it; and there was more
than one frontage which displayed a hatchment, left to grow faded and
discolored long after the year of mourning was ended. Here too was the
judge's residence, set apart for his occupation during the assizes. But
the old bank was the most handsome and most ancient of all those urban
mansions. It had originall