within sight of the building, which was a magnificent modern structure from the model of an Italian Palazzo, and they soon passed through iron gates which separated the park from the closely-mown velvet sward and choice shrubs which surrounded this part of the house-the flower-gardens were on the other side.

Clara had never before seen so costly a modern mansion. The portico under which they drove to the entrance door, was supported by pillars of the Corinthian order, and on each side of the original edifice were open colonnades of the same elaborate architecture, through which were seen on the one hand a beautiful conservatory, now blooming with every varied hue, and on the other an orangery, whose rich perfumes greeted their arrival with all the genial warmth of a southern sky.

"Oh! my dear orange trees," exclaimed the eager Countess, "with what delicious fragrance do you meet me, and how re

freshing after the smoke of London! You know, Clara, my love of flowers; even in London I contrived to gratify it, though on a limited scale to what I indulge in here. You shall revel in a very Paradise of sweets. I must just go in and speak to the old housekeeper, and then, before taking off our bonnets, it will refresh us to take a peep at the flower-garden. Lord St. Clair will show you the way through the conservatory to the other side of the house."

They were examining the long extent of this garden front, and his lordship pointing out which were the different suites of rooms, when Lady St. Clair rejoined, and led them to a grass terrace of velvet softness, below which spread the flower-garden, sloping in several gradations of the same beautifully kept grass, and to an extent far beyond what the eye could reach.

The first dinner-bell called them reluctantly from their stroll, and there was only time to lead Clara to her own apartments,

with the promise of showing her the house after dinner, which as they were alone, would be something to do, pour passer le temps.

Clara found Janet busy in the mysteries of unpacking and arranging everything in the spacious rooms allotted to her, and which were doubly dear from being those occupied by her mother, while Lady Adelaide St. Clair. So exactly was everything still the same, as her uncle had told her, that she could recognise the very colour of the paper, the pictures, the furniture, which had so often been described to her in her childish days, when, in the simplicity of her secluded home, she would listen with wonder to all the grandeur of St. Clair Park, little thinking it was one day to become her own home. There were some modern embellishments and luxuries, in which Clara could trace the correct taste of the Countess, for, though evidently of later date than the rest of the furniture, still they were in keeping with its general style.

"Oh, my dear Miss Clara," said Janet, with tears in her eyes, "I can almost fancy I see my poor lady sitting in that embroidered chair, so well do I remember her amusing you with all the flowers worked upon it, some by her own hands, and others by the Countess, your grandmother. See, here is the very rose I remember your laughing so about, when my lady told you of her puzzle in working it, and that she went twice without her dinner because she did it wrong, when the good-natured cook sent her some dinner up stairs, and, in her hurry in eating it, she greased her fingers, and left the mark upon the work. I wonder if it is there yet."

Yes, indeed, dear Janet, I well recollect it all, and how I shall love this dear old chair as being partly my mother's work! We will look for the stain another day. I must now hasten to be in time for dinner."

At this moment, Lady St. Clair knocked at the door, and finding Clara not ready,

begged to be admitted to sit down while she completed her toilette. "And you need not be long, for we are quite alone. I come to pilot you through all these passages to my own little sitting room, which we use when alone, in preference to the large state diningrooms."

When they entered this elegant, but comparatively only small room, they found Lord St. Clair already awaiting their arrival, with his usual companion, Banquo, resting his curly head on his master's knee.

French windows down to the ground opened on the flower-garden, and Lord St. Clair stepped out to speak to the old gardener, whom he saw busily engaged in training a bed of jessamine; the Countess taking Clara's arm, quickly followed, and greeted the old man with all the kindliness of her nature, praising the beauty of his flowerbeds, and the taste with which he had arranged the different colours. Tears of gratified pride almost filled his eyes, as he replied