About a mile from the Hall, and standing within the limits of its park, there was a charming little villa of quite modern structure, and having such an air of comfort and cosiness about it that tempted the beholder to seek an entrance and obtain a glimpse within, wondering if the inside were as attractive as the outside. Vallingham Hall was already gay with company when the Coolidges arrived, and more was expected the following week. Sir Charles’ courtship seemed to be of the most blissful nature, at least to two persons. Isabel was brilliant from her conquest, and rendered herself so fascinating to everybody that the young man was nearly overwhelmed with congratulations at having won so bonny and wealthy a bride, although among some of the high-born damsels, who were husband-hunting for themselves, there was now and then the curl of a red lip, and murmur of scorn about “plebian blood.” Lady Randal, ignoring caste entirely, was always eulogizing Isabel’s “elegant manners, and her exquisite taste in dress,” and promising herself “so much happiness with a daughter, which she had always wanted, but never had.” Mrs. Coolidge spared neither labor nor expense for her eldest, and her wardrobe was the most _recherché_ of anything to be seen among all the visitors at the Hall, while the jewels which she wore were a marvel to every one, and helped to swell the reports of her vast wealth. When she found that her father had departed without taking them with him, she was delighted, and appropriated them without a scruple, and, as time wore away, she began to look upon them as almost belonging to her. It must be confessed that she stood a little bit in awe of her high-born lover. It did not take her long to discover that he was actuated only by the loftiest sentiments. His manner was as courteous to a servant or an inferior as to an equal, and he never stopped to consider the position of any one when granting a favor. The beggar or the peer was befriended with equal kindness. Open and frank himself, he could not tolerate deception or hypocrisy in any one, and a deliberate wrong incurred his deepest displeasure. Of course, the haughty and selfish girl could feel no sympathy with any such sentiments so foreign to her own nature, but having once learned Sir Charles’s idiosyncracies, and being extremely anxious to share his coronet and plethoric purse, she exerted herself to the utmost to blind his eyes, and, to all outward appearance, she became a most earnest advocate of all his philanthropic schemes, much to his satisfaction, and the secret contempt and amusement of Viola and Alma, who neglected no opportunity when alone with their sister to torment her about it. One evening Sir Charles invited her to walk over a portion of the estate with him, and unfolded to her his plans for beautifying it, and of improving the condition and comfort of his tenantry.