At other times she played gayly with her young companions in the village--and sometimes she fancied that she loved some one among them--she made them presents of books and toys, the relics of happier days; for the desire to benefit, which springs up so naturally in a loving heart, was strong within her, even in that early age. But she never took any one with her in her churchyard visits--she needed none while she was with mamma. Once, indeed, a favourite kitten was carried to the sacred spot, and the little animal played amid the grass and flowers, and the child joined in its frolics--her solitary gay laugh might be heard among the tombs--she did not think it solitary; mamma was there to smile on her, as she sported with her tiny favourite. CHAPTER III Towards the end of a hot, calm day of June, a stranger arrived at Treby. The variations of calm and wind are always remarkable at the seaside, and are more particularly to be noticed on this occasion; since it was the stillness of the elements that caused the arrival of the stranger. During the whole day several vessels had been observed in the offing, lying to for a wind, or making small way under press of sail. As evening came on, the water beyond the bay lay calmer than ever; but a slight breeze blew from shore, and these vessels, principally colliers, bore down close under it, endeavouring by short tacks to procure a long one, and at last to gain searoom to make the eastern headland of the bay. The fishermen on shore watched the manœuvres of the different craft; and even interchanged shouts with the sailors, as they lay lazily on the beach. At length they were put in motion by a hail for a boat from a small merchantman--the call was obeyed--the boat neared the vessel--a gentleman descended into it--his portmanteau was handed after him--a few strokes of the oar drove the boat on the beach, and the stranger leaped out upon the sands. The new comer gave a brief order, directing his slight luggage to be carried to the best inn, and, paying the boatmen liberally, strolled away to a more solitary part of the beach. "A gentleman," all the spectators decided him to be--and such a designation served for a full description of the new arrival to the villagers of Treby. But it were better to say a few words to draw him from among a vast multitude who might be similarly named, and to bestow individuality on the person in question. It would be best so to present his appearance and manner to the "mind's eye" of the reader, that if any met him by chance, he might exclaim, "That is the man!" Yet there is no task more difficult than to convey to another, by mere words, an image, however distinctly it is impressed on our own minds. The individual expression and peculiar traits which cause a man to be recognised among ten thousand of his fellow-men, by one who has known him, though so palpable to the eye, escape when we would find words whereby to delineate them.