Irresolute and half desponding, Randolph returned to Mr. Winter's. That gentleman soon solved the difficulty implied in the conclusion of the above reverie. "Come with me," he said; conducted the neophyte to some neighbouring chambers, presented him to Mr. Flotsam, and told his errand. "Happy to oblige a friend of yours, Winter," said the conveyancer, signing the paper; "hope Mr. Morton will prosper." The second signature was still more a matter of form, Mr. Winter merely sending the paper to Mr. Jetsam, with his compliments. "There," said he to Randolph, "now take it back to the Temple; refer to Mr. Flotsam as your acquaintance; and in a week or so you will hear of your admission." It was as the lawyer said. But the new student received the announcement with feelings very different from those he had so long cherished in his home by the sea. CHAPTER VI. "Yon bosky dingle still the rustics name; 'Twas there the blushing maid confessed her flame. Down yon green lane they oft were seen to hie, When evening slumbered on the western sky. That blasted yew, that mouldering walnut bare, Each bears mementos of the fated pair." KIRKE WHITE. Wilderness Gate was the most picturesque, although not the principal entrance to the park of Pendarrel. The enclosing wall, formed of rough gray stones, and coloured with mosses and ferns, there swept inwards from the public road, leaving a space of turf, usually occupied by the geese of the neighbouring cottagers. The gate was in the centre of the recess, and opened on a long winding avenue of Scotch firs, the branches of which met overhead, and made the path slippery with their fallen spines. On either hand the eye might glance between their straight stems to some open ground beyond, of uneven surface, mostly covered with tall ferns, and chequered with birch-trees. A streamlet might be heard, but not seen, rippling along not far from the walk. Here and there the antlers of a stag would rise above the herbage, and a hare or rabbit might be occasionally seen to bound across an exposed plot of grass. The scene wore an air of neglect. The dead leaves were not swept from the paths; the brambles extended their long shoots at pleasure; the ruggedness of the ground was the work of nature. But the avenue wound gently up an eminence; the wood on each side became deeper, until, on arriving at the summit of a ridge, the visitor emerged suddenly from the dark firs, and gazed down upon the trim plantations and nicely-shorn lawns immediately surrounding the Hall. The portion of the park through which he had passed was called the Wilderness, and gave its name to the gate by which he entered.