do to walk to-day, professedly to walk,--we should be frightened at
the very sound! and yet it is probable that we may be beguiled into
a pretty long stroll before we return home. We are going to drive
to the old house at Aberleigh, to spend the morning under the shade
of those balmy firs, and amongst those luxuriant rose trees, and by
the side of that brimming Loddon river. 'Do not expect us before
six o'clock,' said I, as I left the house; 'Six at soonest!' added
my charming companion; and off we drove in our little pony chaise,
drawn by our old mare, and with the good humoured urchin, Henry's
successor, a sort of younger Scrub, who takes care of horse and
chaise, and cow and garden, for our charioteer.

My comrade in this homely equipage was a young lady of high family
and higher endowments, to whom the novelty of the thing, and her own
naturalness of character and simplicity of taste, gave an
unspeakable enjoyment. She danced the little chaise up and down as
she got into it, and laughed for very glee like a child, Lizzy
herself could not have been more delighted. She praised the horse
and the driver, and the roads and the scenery, and gave herself
fully up to the enchantment of a rural excursion in the sweetest
weather of this sweet season. I enjoyed all this too; for the road
was pleasant to every sense, winding through narrow lanes, under
high elms, and between hedges garlanded with woodbine and rose
trees, whilst the air was scented with the delicious fragrance of
blossomed beans. I enjoyed it all,--but, I believe, my principal
pleasure was derived from my companion herself.

Emily I. is a person whom it is a privilege to know. She is quite
like a creation of the older poets, and might pass for one of
Shakspeare's or Fletcher's women stepped into life; just as tender,