I have been examining this said cabinet, and have found, not only the rosary and the little marble saint, but several other small matters, none of them of any great value, save a rose noble of King Henry's day. I carried them all to my Lady, but she bade me keep them if I liked, so I set the saint on the top of my cabinet. 'Tis a fair little image, carven in alabaster, perfect, but somewhat yellow with time, and represents a young maid with spindle and distaff, and a lamb by her side. Mr. Penrose says it is meant for St. Agnes, and has promised to find out her history for me. Poor little lady, she hath had a long and dark imprisonment, if, as my Lady supposes, she has been hid there since the early days of King James, but she looks very smiling. Lady Betty will have it that she is Una, with her milk-white lamb, about which I have read to her in Spenser in his "Faerie Queene." _July 26._ I can see that Mr. Penrose's sermon has done me no good with Lady Jemima, and only hurt himself with her. They were talking together a long time this morning, in the garden, and parted evidently ill-pleased with each other—I could see thus much from my window. This has been a great day for Betty. She has taken her first ride on the donkey, Thomas leading him, and I walking by her side. I held her at first, as she seemed rather timid, and I wanted her by no means to have a fright. But presently she gained more confidence and would ride alone. We did not go far the first day, for I did not wish her to be overtired, but she enjoyed herself wonderfully. Mr. Corbet joined us as we were returning up the avenue, and taking Thomas's place, led the donkey himself. He told me a great piece of news—namely, that the Bishop is coming here within a short time: Now I shall see whether he will remember me, or whether, as Felicia said, he has never given me a thought. Mr. Corbet looked grave and disturbed, and made somewhat absent answers to Betty's questions, which she remarking, he roused himself to be more attentive. "Some day, perhaps, Margaret and I shall come down to your house to see you, Cousin Walter," said Lady Betty. "I should love to see Corby-End, wouldn't you, Margaret?" "And Corby-End would love to see you," answered Mr. Corbet: "but maybe Mrs. Merton would find the walk long." "O no!" I answered. "I have been used to long walks, and I often walk down to the Parsonage." "Have you ever been down to the cliff?" asked Mr. Corbet. I told him that I had not, that I was rather frightened at the steepness of the path, and the roaring of the waterfall so near.