apprehension on this score, by taking all the arrangements of my study
on herself, and keeping the key of the door when I am not in need of
it.

We have our London amusements, too, as well as our London employments.
But the pleasantest of our relaxations are, after all, procured for us
by our horses. We ride every day--sometimes with friends, sometimes
alone together. On these latter occasions, we generally turn our
horses' heads away from the parks, and seek what country sights we can
get in the neighbourhood of London. The northern roads are generally
our favourite ride.

Sometimes we penetrate so far that we can bait our horses at a little
inn which reminds me of the inns near our country home. I see the same
sanded parlour, decorated with the same old sporting prints, furnished
with the same battered, deep-coloured mahogany table, and polished elm
tree chairs, that I remember in our own village inn. Clara, also,
finds bits of common, out of doors, that look like _our_ common; and
trees that might have been transplanted expressly for her, from _our_
park.

These excursions we keep a secret, we like to enjoy them entirely by
ourselves. Besides, if my father knew that his daughter was drinking
the landlady's fresh milk, and his son the landlord's old ale, in the
parlour of a suburban roadside inn, he would, I believe, be apt to
suspect that both his children had fairly taken leave of their senses.

Evening parties I frequent almost as rarely as my father. Clara's good
nature is called into requisition to do duty for me, as well as for
him. She has little respite in the task. Old lady relatives and