"She is a second cousin of grandpapa's, and I was a good deal with her just before we came here: not long, I fancy, after you had known her; and knowing how general her parties and invitations were, I really at one time imagined I might have met you at some of them: I little thought what a much older acquaintance I was dancing with." "She is a handsome woman," I observed, "and, I fancy, not unlike Colonel Vernon." "How brilliant and how kind she is," she exclaimed, "I often wonder the hurried life she leads gives her space to breathe! I doubt if she has time to be happy." "Happy! Miss Vernon: do you think happiness is to be found in the stagnation that some dignify with the name of tranquillity? My least distinct idea of happiness is the hopeful exertion of every faculty--mental and physical--in search of what we never find; but inaction is misery." "There is some truth in what you say," replied she, "but all my ideas of happiness here and hereafter, are concentrated in the word 'peace!'"--and she paused, and gazed out into the sunshine with such an expression of calm,--of harmony, if I may so term it--that I felt tempted to ask her what spell had stilled her heart into such deep repose. "Did you make any sketches this morning?" she asked, rousing herself from her thoughts. "One or two rough outlines; but I think I could make a very good picture from this spot," said I, rising to look through the window. "Then," said Miss Vernon eagerly, "pray, pray do, Captain Egerton, and give it to me; it will be an inexpressible pleasure to me to have some memento of this quiet, happy spot, when I am, perhaps, far away." "I will set about it to-morrow; but have you any notion of leaving A----?" I asked. "Oh no,--I only spoke from a presentiment I often feel, that we will not always rest calmly in this quiet nook; the waters of life will rise some day, and sweep us out again into the noise and tumult of the world!" Here the old dog, disturbed by my movement, slowly raised himself, and entering by the window, laid his large stern head, with a sort of sigh, on his mistress's arm. "Ah, Cormac, good old friend," said she, putting her arm caressingly round him, "no tumult, however rough, shall separate us; you and I, and grandpapa, and nurse, a goodly company, _n'est ce pas?_"-- "Captain Egerton," said she, rallying and laughing, "don't quiz my presentiments, but sketch me this scene." "With the greatest pleasure; and now I remember, I have some old drawings of Dungar somewhere: I'll look out for them, and bring them over here the next time I come." "Oh thanks, a thousand hearty thanks: they will be treasures to me, indeed, and to grandpapa! When will you come again?" "I can hardly hope for a repetition of my delightful visit for ten days or a fortnight: but on the first possibility of leave I will return."