good enough for her! There is nothing like her in the whole seven
volumes.

But here we are at the bridge! Here we must alight! 'This is the
Loddon, Emily. Is it not a beautiful river? rising level with its
banks, so clear, and smooth, and peaceful, giving back the verdant
landscape and the bright blue sky, and bearing on its pellucid
stream the snowy water-lily, the purest of flowers, which sits
enthroned on its own cool leaves, looking chastity itself, like the
lady in Comus. That queenly flower becomes the water, and so do the
stately swans who are sailing so majestically down the stream, like
those who

"'On St. Mary's lake
Float double, swan and shadow."

We must dismount here, and leave Richard to take care of our
equipage under the shade of these trees, whilst we walk up to the
house:--See, there it is! We must cross this stile; there is no
other way now.'

And crossing the stile we were immediately in what had been a drive
round a spacious park, and still retained something of the
character, though the park itself had long been broken into arable
fields,--and in full view of the Great House, a beautiful structure
of James the First's time, whose glassless windows and dilapidated
doors form a melancholy contrast with the strength and entireness of
the rich and massive front.

The story of that ruin--for such it is--is always to me singularly