Dr. Mitford had been gradually establishing a practice in Reading, where a remarkable cure he had effected was already making his name known, when, as his daughter tells us, he resolved to remove to Lyme, “feeling with characteristic sanguineness that in a fresh place success would be certain.” Some of our readers will no doubt have visited Lyme Regis—that quaint little seaport situated on the steep slope of a hill, whose main street seems, as Jane Austen has remarked, “to be almost hurrying into the water.” They will remember its harbour formed by the curved stone piers of the old Cobb, from which can be seen the pretty bay with its sandy beach bordered by the Parade, or “Walk” as it used to be called, which runs at the foot of a grassy hillside. At the town end of this “Walk” are to be seen some thatched cottages nestling under the shelter of the hill, and beyond them on a small promontory, jutting out into the sea, the old Assembly Rooms. A few miles east-ward lies the sunny little bay of Charmouth, with a grand chain of hills beyond it, rising from the water’s edge and terminating in the far distance in the Bill of Portland. Lyme Regis lies in the borderland of Dorset and Devonshire, “but the character of the scenery,” writes Miss Mitford, “the boldness of the coast, and the rich woodiness of the inland views belong entirely to Devonshire—beautiful Devonshire. “Our habitation,” she continues, “although situated not merely in the town but in the principal street, had nothing in common with the small and undistinguished houses on either side. It was a very large, long-fronted stone mansion, terminated at either end by massive iron gates, the pillars of which were surmounted by spread eagles. An old stone porch, with benches on either side, projected from the centre, covered, as was the whole front of the house, with tall, spreading, wide-leafed myrtle, abounding in blossom, with moss-roses, jessamine and passion-flowers.” [Illustration: THE “WALK” BY THE SEA] This old porch had its special historical association, for here William Pitt as a child used to play at marbles when his father the great Lord Chatham rented the Great House. Unhappily the porch has been altered and injured since we visited Lyme some years ago. Other changes have also been made at various periods, notably a storey added in the northern or upper end of the building; but in spite of these changes the Great House, as it is always called, still dominates the little town like a feudal castle of old amongst its vassals, its massive walls manfully resisting modern innovations. The illustration represents the house as it appeared in Miss Mitford’s day.