emed a warm man, and a safe--attended
diligently to his business--suffered no partner, no foreman, to dictate
or intermeddle--liked his comforts, but made no pretence to fashion. His
villa was at Clapham, not a showy but a solid edifice, with lodge, lawn,
and gardens chiefly notable for what is technically called glass--viz.
a range of glass-houses on the most improved principles, the heaviest
pines, the earliest strawberries. "I'm no judge of flowers," quoth Mr.
Fossett, meekly. "Give me a plain lawn, provided it be close-shaven. But
I say to my gardener: 'Forcing is my hobby--a cucumber with my fish all
the year round!'" Yet do not suppose Mr Fossett ostentatious--quite the
reverse. He would no more ruin himself for the sake of dazzling others,
than he would for the sake of serving them. He liked a warm house,
spacious rooms, good living, old wine, for their inherent merits: He
cared not to parade them to public envy. When he dined alone, or with
a single favoured guess, the best Lafitte, the oldest sherry!--when
extending the rites of miscellaneous hospitality to neighbours,
relations, or other slight acquaintances--for Lafitte, Julien; and
for sherry, Cape!--Thus not provoking vanity, nor courting notice, Mr.
Fossett was without an enemy, and seemed without a care. Formal were his
manners, formal his household, formal even the stout cob that bore him
from Cheapside to Clapham, from Claphain to Cheapside. That cob could
not even prick up its ears if it wished to shy--its ears were cropped,
so were its mane and its tail.

Arabella early gave promise of beauty, and more than ordinary power of
intellect and character. Her father be stowed on her every advantage
of education. She was sent to a select boarding-school of the highest
reputation; the strictest discipline, the best masters, the longest
bills. At the age of seventeen she had become the show pupil of the
seminary. Friends wondered somewhat why the prim merchant took such
pains to lavish on his daughter the worldly accomplishments which seemed
to give him no pleasure, and of which he never spoke with pride. But
certainly, if she was so clever--first-rate musician, exquisite artist,
accomplished linguist, "it was very nice in old Fossett to bear it
so meekly, never crying her up, nor showing her off to less fortunate
parents--very nice in him--good sense--greatness of mind."

"Arabella," said the worthy man one day, a little time after his eldest
daughter had le