terious roc's egg, whose movements are forbidden to mortal eye.
The village and the bells were alike set in motion;—the butcher and the baker talked of the patriotism of noblemen who resided on their estates, and went up to solicit orders;—Mrs. Clarke wondered whether her ladyship would visit in the country;—Mrs. Arundel simpered, and hinted "she dare-sayed some time hence they would be delightful neighbours;"—Emily said that Lady Mandeville, whom she had seen in London, was a very lovely woman, and thought no more about her—except, one day, when she heard a carriage drive into the court, to be out of the way—and once, when she caught sight of a strange shawl, to turn into another path; for she had gradually sunk into that sickly and depressed state of spirits which dreads change, and nervously shrinks from the sight of a stranger;—when, one morning, her path was fairly beset by two fairy-like children, and Lady Mandeville stepping forward, said, laughingly, "My prisoner, by all the articles of war; I shall not let you go without ransom." Escape was now impossible. They took the remainder of the walk together; and, her first embarrassment past,
