F. College,
Oxford.

'Since 1816,' muttered James, as he finished. 'Thirty years of
drudgery! When shall I be able to relieve her? Ha! O. J. F.
Dynevor, Esquire, if it were you who were coming from Peru, you would
find a score to settle!'

He ran down stairs to assist his grandmother in the Latin lessons of
her little school, the usual employment of his vacations.

Catharine Dynevor had begun life with little prospect of spending
nearly half of it as mistress of a school.

Her father was the last male of the Dynevors of Cheveleigh--a family
mounting up to the days of the Pendragons--and she had been made to
take the place of an eldest son, inheriting the extensive landed
property on condition that her name and arms should be assumed in
case of her marriage. Her choice was one of the instances in which
her affections had the mastery over her next strongest
characteristic, family pride. She married a highly-educated and
wealthy gentleman, of good family, but of mercantile connexions, such
as her father, if living, would have disdained. Her married life
was, however, perfectly unclouded, her ample means gave her the power
of dispensing joy, and her temperament was so blithe and unselfish
that no pleasure ever palled upon her. Cheveleigh was a proverb for
hospitality, affording unfailing fetes for all ages, full of a
graceful ease and freedom that inspired enjoyment.

Mr. Frost Dynevor was a man of refined taste, open-handed even to