shocks upon twenty fields sent their long purple shadows across the
flush; and the evening wind, like the sighing that follows departed
tears, was shaking the jewels from their feathery tops. The
sunflowers and hollyhocks no longer cowered under the tyranny of the
rain, but bowed beneath the weight of the gems that adorned them. A
flame burned as upon an altar on the top of every tree, and the very
pools that lay on the distant road had their message of light to
give to the hopeless earth. As she gazed, another hue than that of
the sunset, yet rosy too, gradually flushed the face of the maiden.
She turned suddenly from the window, and left the room, shaking a
shower of diamonds from the honeysuckle as she passed out through
the porch upon the gravel walk.

Possibly her elders found her departure a relief, for although they
took no notice of it, their talk became more confidential, and was
soon mingled with many names both of rank and note, with a
familiarity which to a stranger might have seemed out of keeping
with the humbler character of their surroundings.

But when Dorothy Vaughan had passed a corner of the house to another
garden more ancient in aspect, and in some things quaint even to
grotesqueness, she was in front of a portion of the house which
indicated a far statelier past--closed and done with, like the rooms
within those shuttered windows. The inhabited wing she had left
looked like the dwelling of a yeoman farming his own land; nor did
this appearance greatly belie the present position of the family.
For generations it had been slowly descending in the scale of
worldly account, and the small portion of the house occupied by the
widow and daughter of sir Ringwood Vaughan was larger than their
means could match with correspondent outlay. Such, however, was the