"Last Sunday (July 28) M^r and M^rs Lock, my sister and Captain Phillips, and my brother Captain Burney, accompanied us to the altar in Mickleham Church; since which the ceremony has been repeated in the chapel of the Sardinian Ambassador, that if, by a counter-revolution in France, M. d'Arblay recovers any of his rights, his wife may not be excluded from their participation. "You may be amazed not to see the name of my dear father upon this solemn occasion; but his apprehensions from the smallness of our income have made him cold and averse: and though he granted his consent, I could not even solicit his presence." FROM MADAME D'ARBLAY TO DR. BURNEY AFTER HIS FIRST VISIT TO HER AT BOOKHAM. "BOOKHAM, _August '94_. It is just a week since I had the greatest gratification of its kind I ever, I think, experienced:--so kind a thought, so sweet a surprise as was my dearest father's visit! How softly and soothingly it has rested upon my mind ever since!... "How thankfully did I look back, the 28^th of last month, upon a year that has not been blemished with one regretful moment!" It was at Bookham that Madame d'Arblay wrote _Camilla_, and out of the sale of the novel she built her cottage, Camilla Lacey, on a plot of ground at West Humble leased to her by her friend Mr. Lock. _Camilla_, which Horace Walpole thought deplorable, infinitely worse than _Cecilia_, which was not so good as _Evelina_, was an instant success. Within a month Madame d'Arblay had made L2,000, and Macaulay's estimate of her whole profits was over three thousand guineas. There was never a stranger climb down a ladder to fortune than Fanny Burney's. _Evelina_, her first and incomparably her best novel, brought her L30; _Cecilia_, her next, L250; then came _Camilla_; and her last novel, _The Wanderer_, which she wrote after ten years' absence with her husband in France, actually sold 3,600 copies in six months at two guineas a copy, and was an absolute and hopeless failure. Camilla Lacey, invisible from the road, has been enlarged and altered to look like nothing the d'Arblays knew. Juniper Hall has also changed, but the splendid cedars which stand round its lawns must have been familiar to Talleyrand and Madame de Stael. They have grown curiously slowly; they do not strike one as larger than many trees which are known to be not more than a hundred and twenty years old--those, for instance, at Farnham Castle; but John Timbs, in his _Promenade Round Dorking_, written in 1823, speaks of them as "immense," and as "said to be of the finest growth in England." [Illustration: _Cedars at Juniper Hall._] Norbury Park also has its famous trees. The Druids' Walk, a path running under enormous yews, is no longer open to the public. But Louis Jennings, thirty years ago, saw the trees and preserved a memory of them in _Field Paths and Green Lanes_:--