She is a lady of confirmed honor, of an unmatchable spirit, and determinate in all virtuous resolutions; not hasty to anticipate affront, nor show to feel where just provocation is given.—CHARLES LAMB. Clifton by the morning sunlight! Oh! that I could show it to you as Fairfax saw it from the balcony of his chamber on the morning after his arrival! The whole face of the country was very high, yet even this elevated land was broken into hills and valleys, rocks and glens. Behind the house arose the white cliffs so often mentioned, shutting out the Northern view, but before the house lay the valley in which the plantation was situated, and around that, East, West and South, stretched a magnificent panorama, ridge beyond ridge of mountains, covered with gigantic forests, clothed with the richest verdure, rolling on until they gradually faded away in the distance, their forms lost among the clouds of the horizon. It seemed a vast, boundless ocean of greenery, of which the vales and mountains were the stupendous waves, charmed to sleep. It was a magnificent solitude. Not a human dwelling to be seen. The planters’ mansions—if there were any in the neighborhood, were low in the vales, and hidden from sight. The mountain torrent, as it came leaping down the side of the cliff, running through the wooded lawn, losing itself in the forest vale, and reappearing as a mountain lake among the distant hills, was a beautiful feature in the landscape. The deep intense blue of the clear skies, the early splendor of the sunlight, the murmur of the breeze among the waving trees, the joyous songs of birds, gladdened all the scene, and put to flight Frank’s blue devils, long before Dandy called him to breakfast. The breakfast-table was set in the lawn under the shadow of the pine elms. The old gentleman, in his suit of cool white linen—the sisters in neat morning dresses of white cambric, and the dark Georgia, in her usual dress of black, were assembled on the piazza. They greeted Mr. Fairfax with lively welcome, telling him that Clifton had not yet made his appearance. But even while they spoke, Captain Clifton joined them, and they sat down to breakfast. Those breakfasts on the lawn! How many times in after years, in the sultry heat of the city hotel, did Fairfax recall them! Soon after breakfast, Captain Clifton invited Mr. Fairfax to accompany him in a ride up the ridge to his mother’s farm. And after taking leave of the ladies they set out. They left the house by the back way, and took a winding bridle-path up the side of the cliffs. The day was very fine and cool, and their path was shaded by overhanging trees. It was altogether a delightful ride, and as they went up, Clifton, who led the way, turned his head around and inquired— “Frank! what instigated you to romance so last night about our sojourn at the mountain hut?” “Romance? I didn’t romance, except in saying that the girl was beautiful. I said _that_ for your credit!”