se, about two miles distant from the station.

"What a very pleasant-looking house that is on the hill-top!" remarked
Ned, as he gave his arm to his uncle.

"D'you think so? Well, I'm glad of it, because that's the farm I wish
you to take."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Ned, in surprise. "Surely the farm connected with
such a house must be a large one?"

"So it is," replied the other.

Ned laughed. "My dear uncle," said he, "how can _I_ manage such a
place, without means or knowledge?"

"I said before, boy, that I would overcome both these difficulties for
you."

"You did, dear uncle; and if you were a rich man, I could understand how
you might overcome the first; but you have often told me you had no
money in the world except the rent of a small property."

"Right, Ned; I said so; and I say it again. I shan't leave you a
sixpence when I die, and I can't afford to give you one while I am
alive."

"Then I must just leave the matter in your own hands," replied Ned,
smiling, "for I cannot comprehend your plans."

They had now reached the gate of the park that surrounded the fine old
building of Brixley Hall.

The house was one of those rambling, picturesque old mansions, which,
although not very large in reality, have a certain air of magnitude, and
even grandeur, about them. The windows were modern and large, so that
the rooms were well lighted, and the view in all directions was
magnificent. Wherever the eye turned, it met knolls, and mounds, and
fields, and picturesque groves, with here and there a substantial
farm-steading, or a little hamlet, with its modest church-spire pointing
ever upwards to the bright sky. Cattle and sheep lowed and bleated in
the meadows, while gentle murmurs told that a rivulet flowed along its
placid course at no great distance.

The spot was simply enchanting--and Ned said so, in the fulness of his
heart, emphatically.

"'Tis a sweet spot!" remarked his uncle, in a low, sad tone, as he
entered the open door of the dwelling, and walked deliberately into the
drawing-room.

"Now, Ned, sit down--here, opposite that window, where you can see the
view--and I'll tell you how we shall manage. You tell me you have 500
pounds?"

"Yes, uncle."

"Well, your dear mother left you her fortune when she died--it amounts
to the small sum of 200 pounds. I never told you of it before, my boy,
for reasons of my own. That makes 700 pounds."

"Will that suffice to stock and carry on so larg