The intelligence which so suddenly altered the destination of Miss Monimia Smith's nosegay, was from one of Frank's Leicestershire correspondents; and was to the effect, that Alice had gone into a situation in the little village of Wibbleton, where she had been securely hidden from all her lover's pursuits for half a year. Wibbelton, he found, was fifteen miles from Bandvale, on the Birmingham road, and merrily away he trotted as fast as the two posters could go. The news, the air, the motion, that had such an exhilirating effect on Frank Edwards, seemed to be equally efficacious in the case of my old friend Smith. He felt so well on being told of his host's departure, that he was able to move at once; and, without waiting for consultation with the doctor, or even for his carriage, he accompanied his daughter and the indefatigable Percy Marvale across the fields to Howkey on foot. Meanwhile the hopeful lover drew near the hamlet of Wibbelton. He drove to the inn as the likeliest place where he could get information, and entered the common parlour, a neat little whitewashed room, with clean sanded floor, that looked out upon the village green. At a little table by the window sat a gentleman reading the newspaper, and occasionally relieving the dryness of the parliamentary debates by a sip at a little tankard of beer. He was a neatly dressed old man, with his thin long hair tied behind in a cue, a bright blue coat buttoned close up to the throat, stocking-thread pantaloons, and high Hessian boots. His upright carriage and projecting chest pointed him out at once as a military man; and the bow he had made, on Frank entering the room, showed at once he was a man of the old school--very formal and ceremonious--but was indicative of good-nature at the same time. "A stranger in Wibbelton?" he said, laying down the paper. "Ha! I thought so--never remarked you before, though I keep my eye on any new face that appears in our parish." "There are not many strangers, I presume, who find their way to this out-of-the-way village," replied Frank. "I beg your pardon, my young friend. Many do. It is just the place for strangers to come to. A more complete retirement is not to be found in England." "But every one is not enamoured of retirement," answered Frank. "Then they have never been in active life. As for my step-son and me, who have been pushed about the world all our days, we find no place like Wibbelton." "A soldier, I presume?" enquired Frank. The old _militaire_ bowed. "A soldier, sir, not quite unknown to fame, if I may be allowed to say so. My step-son also." "And both reside here?"