ld be settled.

An open carriage, which would take them all, was ordered,--with four
post horses, and two antiquated postboys, with white hats and blue
jackets, and yellow breeches. Minnie and the curate sat on the box,
and there was a servant in the rumble. Rooms at the inn had been
ordered, and everything was done in proper lordly manner. The sun
shone brightly above their heads, and Anna, having as yet received
no further letter from her mother, was determined to be happy. Four
horses took them to Bolton Bridge, and then, having eaten lunch and
ordered dinner, they started for their ramble in the woods.

The first thing to be seen at Bolton Abbey is, of course, the Abbey.
The Abbey itself, as a ruin,--a ruin not so ruinous but that a part
of it is used for a modern church,--is very well; but the glory of
Bolton Abbey is in the river which runs round it and in the wooded
banks which overhang it. No more luxuriant pasture, no richer
foliage, no brighter water, no more picturesque arrangement of the
freaks of nature, aided by the art and taste of man, is to be found,
perhaps, in England. Lady Anna, who had been used to wilder scenery
in her native county, was delighted. Nothing had ever been so
beautiful as the Abbey;--nothing so lovely as the running Wharfe!
Might they not climb up among those woods on the opposite bank?
Lord Lovel declared that, of course they would climb up among the
woods,--it was for that purpose they had come. That was the way to
the Stryd,--over which he was determined that Lady Anna should be
made to jump.

But the river below the Abbey is to be traversed by stepping-stones,
which, to the female uninitiated foot, appear to be full of danger.
The Wharfe here is no insignificant brook, to be overcome by a long
stride and a jump. There is a causeway, of perhaps forty stones,
across it, each some eighteen inches distant from the other, which,
flat and excellent though they be, are perilous from their number.
Mrs. Lovel, who knew the place of old, had begun by declaring that
no consideration should induce her to cross the water. Aunt Julia
had proposed that they should go along the other bank, on the Abbey
side of the river, and thence cross by the bridge half a mile up.
But the Earl was resolved that he would take his cousin over the
stepping-stones; and Minnie and the curate were equally determined.
Minnie, indeed, had crossed the river, and was back again, while the
matter was still being disc