"But every one is not enamoured of retirement," answered Frank.

"Then they have never been in active life. As for my step-son and me,
who have been pushed about the world all our days, we find no place like
Wibbelton."

"A soldier, I presume?" enquired Frank.

The old _militaire_ bowed. "A soldier, sir, not quite unknown to fame,
if I may be allowed to say so. My step-son also."

"And both reside here?"

"My step-son's house is the large white manorial mansion you see on the
other side of the green. It is the noblest house in the county. Ah!
there is nothing equal to the fine residences of our venerable
agricultural nobility. My step-son is chief of the family; and though I
had the misfortune to lose his mother in a very few years after our
marriage, I always look upon him as a son. He looks on me as a father.
We fight our battles over again, and only feel the want of a little
addition to our pleasing intelligent society."

Frank looked towards the mansion described as one of the noblest in
England, and saw a tolerably sized square house, with a range of white
palings before the door, and a vine trailing over the front, but with no
appearance of grandeur more than the very ordinary houses by its side.

"It would perhaps destroy the charm of the retirement you spoke of, if
too many were admitted to share it," said Frank. "Has your step-son a