The honest truth of the matter was, that Mr. Hartland came to his present independence late in life, and regulated his mind till then, by the _pole-star_ maxim, which he imbibed with his alphabet, that the worst of all poor things was a poor marriage. His father died before he was born; and his mother, who understood the art of making one pound perform the work of two in any other hands, had contrived to educate her darling and only child, by exercising the closest economy; but, strange to say, instead of placing him in any profession by which he might support himself, and repay her for the sacrifices she had made, she preferred keeping him at home, and it was her pride and delight, that whatever were the privations which _she_ endured, her son should know no want. Young Hartland had his horse, while his mother assured him that she _chose_ to walk; his boots and shoes shone like mirrors, his hat was glossy as a raven's wing, and his whole wardrobe appointed with as much care as if he only waited for his legal majority to step into a good estate. But one and twenty years had looked at themselves in the glass of one and twenty more, ere any change occurred; and then the heirship to a comfortable property put him in possession of easy circumstances only just three months before death deprived him of her with whom he had passed his days. This event rendered his home intolerable, and ability to quit the scene of his loss coinciding with inclination to do so, Mr. Hartland sought in all directions for an eligible residence. Being a man of orderly and clock-work habits, who had performed a measured round of daily action from the time of his earliest childhood, he felt no desire to alter the manner of his life, but only wished to continue its wonted routine upon a different stage. It never once occurred to his imagination that foreign travel, or even the recreation of a neighbouring watering place, might afford diversion to the uneasy thoughts which possessed his mind; but lighting accidentally upon an advertisement, which set forth that Henbury, with its appurtenances, was to be sold, he immediately resolved on being the purchaser. There were just as many acres as constituted his _beau ideal_ of a snug abode, and he lost no time in transplanting thither every biped and quadruped on which he was accustomed to rest his eyes, insomuch that when first he opened them after sleeping in his new _domicile_, every thing around was so tranquilly arranged that he would have been scarcely sensible of having quitted his ancient abiding place, had not the painful feeling been removed of association with the image of his poor mother, whose arm-chair and work-basket no longer rose upon his view, empty and unoccupied in their allotted corner.