content of Mr. and Mrs. Dallas was
inexpressible.

'Where will you find anything like that, now?' said Mr. Dallas, as they
were passing Hyde Park. 'Ah, Miss Betty, wait; you will never want to
see Washington again. The Capitol? Pooh, pooh! it may do for a little
beginning of a colony; but wait till you have seen a few things here.
What will you show her first, Pitt?'

'Kensington.'

'Kensington! Ah, to be sure. Well, I suppose your new house takes
precedence of all other things for the present.'

'Not my _new_ house,' said Pitt. 'It is anything but that. There is
nothing new about it but the master. I thought I should bring you back
with me, mother; so I told Mrs. Bunce to have luncheon ready. As I
said, she can cook a chop.'

By degrees the houses became thinner, as they drove on; grass and trees
were again prominent; and it was in a region that looked at least half
country that the carriage at last stopped. Indeed more than half
country, for the city was certainly left behind. Everything was in
fresh green; the air was mild and delicious; the place quiet. The
carriage turned from the road and passed through an iron gateway and up
a gravel sweep to the door of an old house, shaded by old trees and
surrounded by a spread of velvety turf. The impression, as Betty
descended from the carriage, was that here had been ages of dignified
order and grave tranquillity. The green-sward was even and soft and of
vivid freshness; the old trees were stately with their length of limb
and great solid trunks; and the house?--

The house, towards which she turned, as if to ask questions of it, was
of moderate size, built of stone, and so massively built as if it had
been meant to stand for ever. That was seen at once in the thickness of
the walls, the strong oaken doorway, and the heavy window frames. But
as soon as Betty set foot within the door she could almost have
screamed with delight.

'Upon my word, very good! very well!' said Mr. Dallas, standing in the
hall and reviewing it. And then, perceiving the presence of the
servants, he checked himself and reviewed them.

'These are my uncle's faithful old friends, mother,' Pitt was saying;
'Mrs. Bunce, and Stephen Hill. Have you got something ready for
travellers, Mrs. Bunce?'

Dignified order and grave tranquillity was the impression on Betty's
mind again, as they were ushered into the dining-room. It was late, and
the party sat down at once to table.

But Betty could har