“You may look out now for the place. Look out for our new garden. We are just there now,” said Woodruffe to the children as the whistle sounded, and the train was approaching the station. It had been a glorious autumn day from the beginning; and for the last hour, while the beauty of the light on fields and trees and water had been growing more striking, the children, tired with the novelty of all that they had seen since morning, had been dropping asleep. They roused up suddenly enough at the news that they were reaching their new home; and thrust their heads to the windows, eagerly asking on which side they were to look for their garden. It was on the south, the left-hand side; but it might have been anywhere, for what they could see of it. Below the embankment was something like a sheet of grey water, spreading far away. “It is going to be a foggy night,” observed Woodruffe. The children looked into the air for the fog, which had always, in their experience, arrived by that way from the sea. The sky was all a clear blue, except where a pale green and a faint blush of pink streaked the west. A large planet beamed clear and bright: and the air was so transparent that the very leaves on the trees might almost be counted. Yet could nothing be seen below for the grey mist which was rising, from moment to moment. Fleming met them as they alighted; but he could not stay till he had seen to the other passengers. His wife was there. She had been a merry hearted girl; and, now, still so young, as to look as girlish as ever, she seemed even merrier than ever. She did not look strong, but she had hardly thrown off what she called “a little touch of the ague;” and she declared herself perfectly well when the wind was anywhere but in the wrong quarter. Allan wondered how the wind could go wrong. He had never heard of such a thing before. He had known the wind too high, when it did mischief among his father’s fruit trees; but it had never occurred to him that it was not free to come and go whence and whither it would, without blame or objection. “Come—come home,” exclaimed Mrs. Fleming. “Never mind about your bags and boxes! My husband will take care of them. Let me show you the way home.” She let go the hands of the young brothers, and loaded them, and then herself, with parcels, that they might not think they were going to lose every thing, as she said; and then tripped on before to show the way. The way was down steps, from the highest of which two or three chimney-tops might be seen piercing the mist which hid everything else. Down, down, down went the party, by so many steps that little Moss began to totter under his bundle. “How low this place lies!” observed the mother. “Why, yes;” replied Mrs. Fleming. “And yet I don’t know. I believe it is rather that the railway runs high.” “Yes, yes; that is it,” said Woodruffe. “What an embankment this is! If this is to shelter my garden to the north—”