pretty, if, instead of those
frightful rocks and shabby cottages, there could be villas, and gardens,
and lawns, and conservatories, and summer-houses, and statues.

Miss Becky observed, if it was hers, she would cut down the woods, and
level the hills, and have races.

The road wound along the sides of the lake, sometimes overhung with
banks of natural wood, which, though scarcely budding, grew so thick as
to exclude the prospect; in other places surmounted by large masses of
rock, festooned with ivy, and embroidered by mosses of a thousand hues
that glittered under the little mountain streamlets. Two miles farther
on stood the simple mansion of Mr. Douglas. It was situated in a wild
sequestered nook, formed by a little bay at the farther end of the
lake. On three sides it was surrounded by wooded hills that offered a
complete shelter from every nipping blast. To the south the lawn,
sprinkled with trees and shrubs, sloped gradually down to the water.

At the door they were met by Mrs. Douglas, who welcomed them with
the most affectionate cordiality, and conducted them into the house
through a little circular hall, filled with flowering shrubs and foreign
plants.

"How delightful!" exclaimed Lady Juliana, as she stopped to inhale
the rich fragrance. "Moss roses! I do delight in them," twisting off a
rich cluster of flowers and buds in token of her affection; "and I quite
doat upon heliotrope," gathering a handful of flowers as she spoke. Then
extending her hand towards a most luxuriant Cape jessamine--

"I must really petition you to spare this, my favourite child," said her
sister-in-law, as she gently withheld her arm; "and, to tell you the
truth, dear Lady Juliana, you have already infringed the rules of my
little conservatory, which admit only of the gratification of two
senses--seeing and smelling."

"What! don't you like your flowers to be gathered?" exclaimed Lady
Juliana in a tone of surprise and disappointment; "I don't know any
other use they're of. What quantities I used to have from Papa's
hothouses!"

Mrs. Douglas made no reply; but conducted her to the drawing-room, where
her chagrin was dispelled by the appearance of comfort and even elegance
that it bore. "Now, this is really what I like," cried she, throwing
herself on one of the couches; "a large fire, open windows, quantities
of roses, comfortable Ottomans, and pictures; only what a pity you
haven't a larger mirror."

Mrs. Douglas now rang