of the taste of its former mistress. Everything bespoke the utmost elegance and refinement in him who now alone used the room, impressing the beholder with ideas fully borne out by the appearance of the clergyman himself.
He was sitting in an arm-chair by the fireside, a small low table bearing the tray which held his simple breakfast. He wore a handsome dressing-gown closely folded around him, from beneath the bottom of which appeared a pair of spotless woollen-slippers. A newspaper lay on the table, which had apparently not yet been opened, but an exquisite little copy of Horace formed his companion at breakfast instead, which he perused with a languid pleasure through his gold-rimmed eye-glasses.
It did not, however, seem to engross his attention, for his eyes frequently wandered to the windows and looked out upon the rays of faint sunlight which, struggling through ominous clouds, fell athwart the lawn and upon the leafless laburnums. At one of these glances his face suddenly assumed a look of keener interest. This was caused by the sight of two children, a little girl, perhaps eight years old, with a face of delicate prettiness, and dressed in a handsome little winter costume which became her wonderfully, and by her side a boy, in appearance much older, though in reality about the same age. The
