tells such funny stories about the people she lived among, and has a
great deal to say about Arthur Carlton. You will come to the Willows
to-morrow, will you not, and call on her?" Edith gave the required
assent, and Julia, mounting her pony, cantered down the avenue to the
lodge gate, where she was joined by a tall, gentlemanly looking man,
mounted on a small bay mare, and the two walked their horses at an easy
pace down the green lane in the direction of the Willows, and Edith
returned to the house in time to dress for dinner, well pleased with the
prospect of hearing something of him who was scarcely absent from her
thoughts for any great length of time. She did not attempt to analyze
her feelings on the subject. It was pleasant to think of her absent
friend, and that was sufficient for the present.

Mr. Barton, Sen., or old Mr. Barton as he was usually styled, for he was
upwards of eighty years of age, and had been born in the house he now
occupied, a good comfortable and substantial, but old fashioned
dwelling, which had passed from father to son for several generations.
His father had been what is termed a gentleman farmer, and attended
personally to the superintending of his acres. His son, the present
occupant, had followed his example. He married early in life, but the
lady of his choice died young, leaving one son to remind the sorrowing
widower of his loss. This was Horace Barton, whom we have already
introduced; he chose a different field for his labors, and managed to
secure, while yet young, on appointment in India. Our friend Tom and his
two sisters, Julia and Emily, were the result of a second marriage, and
although there was every comfort to be had, and a good home for all
during the life of the old couple, yet it was absolutely necessary that
Tom should make his own road through life, and that the girls should, by
early marriage, secure for themselves suitable establishments, as the
Willows would fall to Horace on the death of his father, and it would