and beautiful sights I have ever seen.

There it rises, 'as from the stroke of the enchanter's wand,' looking so
light and filmy, that you could scarcely believe it more than a picture
reflected on the thin mist of night.

On such a still summer night the moon shone splendidly upon the front of
the George and Dragon, the comfortable graystone inn of Golden Friars,
with the grandest specimen of the old inn-sign, perhaps, left in
England. It looks right across the lake; the road that skirts its margin
running by the steps of the hall-door, opposite to which, at the other
side of the road, between two great posts, and framed in a fanciful
wrought-iron border splendid with gilding, swings the famous sign of St.
George and the Dragon, gorgeous with colour and gold.

In the great room of the George and Dragon, three or four of the old
_habitués_ of that cozy lounge were refreshing a little after the
fatigues of the day.

This is a comfortable chamber, with an oak wainscot; and whenever in
summer months the air is sharp enough, as on the present occasion, a
fire helped to light it up; which fire, being chiefly wood, made a
pleasant broad flicker on panel and ceiling, and yet did not make the
room too hot.

On one side sat Doctor Torvey, the doctor of Golden Friars, who knew the
weak point of every man in the town, and what medicine agreed with each
inhabitant--a fat gentleman, with a jolly laugh and an appetite for all
sorts of news, big and little, and who liked a pipe, and made a tumbler
of punch at about this hour, with a bit of lemon-peel in it. Beside him