you a thousand guineas for that small bit of tableland to the right; the Duke of Uxmore is only waiting to hit upon such a spot. Here, too, where we sit, must be the hydropathic establishment. You can't help it, my Lord, you must comply. This park will bring you in a princely revenue. It is gold,--actual gold,--every foot of it! There 's not a Swiss cottage in these woods won't pay cent per cent!” Mr. Galbraith--such was his name--was of that pictorially gifted order of which the celebrated George Robins was once chief. He knew how to dress his descriptions with the double attraction of the picturesque and the profitable, so that trees seemed to bend under golden fruit, and the sea-washed rocks looked like “nuggets.” If there be something very seductive in the prospect of growing immensely rich all at once, there is a terrible compensation in the utter indifference inflicted on us as to all our accustomed pleasures in life. The fate of Midas seems at once our own; there is nothing left to us but that one heavy and shining metal of all created blessedness! Lord Glengariff was wont to enjoy the lonely spot he lived in with an intense appreciation of its beauty. He never wearied of watching the changing effects of season on a scene so full of charm; but now he surveyed it with a sense of fidgety impatience, eager for the time when the sounds of bustle and business should replace the stillness that now reigned around him. “This is from Dunn,” said he, breaking open a large, heavy-sealed letter which had just arrived. His eyes ran hastily along it, and he exclaimed peevishly, “No prospectus yet; no plan issued; nothing whatever announced. 'I have seen Galbraith, and had some conversation with him about your harbor.' My harbor!” “Go on,” said Lady Augusta, mildly.