oung mistress and her handsome
husband, for both were alike looked up to and respected for their many
amiable qualities, by those among whom they had been brought up since
childhood. The two old veterans, Bridoon and Tom the game keeper, had,
in honor of the occasion, donned their uniforms and were the big guns of
the evening, presiding, as they did, at the upper ends of the tables
where the volunteer cavalry were regaling themselves to their heart's
content on the good things provided for them.

The day's festivities were closed with a grand display of fire works,
and bonfires were lit in many places, which crackled and sent upwards
millions of bright sparks, to the intense delight of the juvenile
portion of the community. The long rooms in the two public houses, in
the village, were thrown open for dancing. The servants' hall, and the
two great barns at Vellenaux were also decorated and arranged for the
same purpose, and a right joyous time was there kept up, almost until
the dawn of day.

Within the time-honoured walls, in one of the superb and luxuriously
furnished apartments of Vellenaux, did Edith and Arthur, on this, the
first night of their return, entertain the Bartons, Cotterells,
Ashburnhams, Denhams, and a large circle of acquaintances. It was not a
ball, not exactly a conversazione, but a sort of happy re-union, an
assemblage of old friends and familiar faces, many of whom, had, to a
certain extent, participated in the joys and sorrows that had attended
their host and hostess from their youth upwards, and, as this pleasing
picture fades from view, let us take a perspective glance through a
pleasant vista of progressive years, at another equally interesting
tableaux, whose back ground and surroundings are the same as the
previous one. Vellenaux, that magnificent pile of buildings, with its
beautiful and varied styles of architecture, embosomed, as it were, in
the rare old woods of Devon, its parks and wondrous parterres, its
fountains, marble terraces and statuary, all brought out in bold relief
by the glorious golden light of a summer's setting sun.

On a spacious terrace of the western wing, whose broad steps of fine
Italian marble led down to the clear, open, finely gravelled walk that
surrounded a beautiful and well kept lawn, were grouped, in various
positions, a number of ladies, gentlemen, and children, with all of
whom, the juveniles excepted, the reader is already acquainted.

The Earl of Castle