“We enjoy the month our lilacs are out, beyond any month in the year,” said Anneke, smiling at my surprise and delight; “and we make it a point to pass most of it here. You will at least own, Mr. Littlepage, that Lilacsbush is properly named.” “The effect is more like enchantment than anything else!” I cried. “I did not know that the simple, modest lilac could render anything so very beautiful!” “Simplicity and modesty are such charms in themselves, sir, as to be potent allies,” observed the sensible but taciturn Mary Wallace. To this I assented, of course, and we all followed Mr. Mordaunt into the house. I was as much delighted with the appearance of things in the interior of Lilacsbush, as I had been with the exterior. Everywhere, it seemed to me, I met with the signs of Anneke's taste and skill. I do not wish the reader to suppose that the residence itself was of the very first character and class, for this it could not lay claim to be. Still, it was one of those staid, story-and-a-half dwellings, in which most of our first families were, and are content to dwell, in the country; very much resembling the good old habitation at Satanstoe in these particulars. The furniture, however, was of a higher town-finish than we found it necessary to use; and the little parlour in which we breakfasted was a model for an eating-room. The buffets in the corners were so well polished that one might see his face in them; the cellarets were ornamented with plated hinges, locks, etc., and the table itself shone like a mirror. I know not how it was, but the china appeared to me richer and neater than common under Anneke's pretty little hand; while the massive and highly-finished plate of the breakfast service, was such as could be wrought only in England. In a word, while everything appeared rich and respectable, there was a certain indescribable air of comfort, gentility, and neatness about the whole, that impressed me in an unusual manner. “Mr. Littlepage tells me, Anneke,” observed Herman Mordaunt, while we were at breakfast, “that he intends to make a journey to the north, next winter, and it may be our good fortune to meet him there. The ----th expects to be ordered up as high as Albany, this summer; and we may all renew our songs and jests, with Bulstrode and his gay companions, among the Dutchmen.” I was charmed with this prospect of meeting Anneke Mordaunt at the north, and took occasion to say as much; though I was afraid it was in an awkward and confused manner. “I heard as much as this, sir, while we were riding,” answered the daughter. “I hope cousin Dirck is to be of the party?”