Many of his notes, with which his books were plenteously interlined, were dated from these out of the way places, which, to be sure, did not always seem congenial to the subjects revolved. Some of the deepest points in Adam Smith were dated from a goatherd's cottage on the Alps; and a Commentary on Colliber's Treatise on the Soul was signed from the Stag and Hounds in Windsor Forest.

And yet, I have often heard him say, that some of his purest enjoyments were the fruit of these temporary deviations; which however were generally much more agreeable to the master than to his unsentimental servant.

"You will lose ten hours if you stay here, Sir"said his groom once to him, who was in alarm at his only eyeing the sign of the Royal Oak, hanging half way up a hill, embosomed in wood.

"But I shall gain ten years of existence," replied Evelyn, "so put up the horses."

John knew there was nothing left for it, for "Master," as he said to the ostler as he helped to unsaddle, "was in one of his whims." He therefore obeyed, whistling, not for want of, but to divert thought; for, in fact, he wanted to be home, and could not help lamenting that so wise a man as his master should know so little about travelling.

Such were some of the passages of his former, and particularly of his bachelor life; and his disposition

on these points was participated, till health forbade, by the partner of his heart. It had now rather sub sided, but easily revived when occasion called it forth; and in these respects, and at the present moment, though little equal now to any thing out of the beaten track, he was not ill seconded by the drooping Georgina herself.

"And what is your name, petite?" asked the Doctor of the little French hostess.

"Lisette, Monseigneur," returned she, dropping her twentieth curtsey very low indeed, at being spoken to, as she thought, from his black habit, and ba rouche à quatre chevaux, by a Bishop, or grand Vicaire, at least.

"And how far to Orleans ?”

"C'est tout près," continued Lisette, "only the bridge is broke down, close to the city, and the ford is very bad."

"Ce n'est rien," said the postillion, striding up in his long jack boots, "and besides, there is a ferry boat, and we can shift all the luggage."

"And the inn?"

"C'est superbe," cried the postillion, " et pour le chef de cuisine, un Cordon bleu! You will be there in no time," continued the postillion-" You would have been there and at supper, by this, if it had not been for this little chose, and her diantre de pain bis.” The postillion, though a Frenchman, was not

sentimental, and had little taste for cottages, when there were all the charms of the Lion d'Or, in the grande place d'Orleans, close by the magnificent cathedral, and the evening promenade of the whole town besides, only waiting, as it were, for their arrival.

Both Evelyn and Georgina thought differently. They looked and looked upon the landscape, and scented the surrounding sweets again and again, and felt all the charms of summer twilight stealing over their senses.

My dear," said the Doctor, "I'm thinking, if such a thing were possible, and we could stay here to-night, instead of going into a close town".

"It would be delightful !" exclaimed Georgina" and we might be amused with Lisette."

"Let us enquire," said Evelyn.

"If there is but bedding," added Georgina, "we shall want nothing else; I care little for the cordon bleu.".

"I see an arbour of vine leaves," observed Evelyn, getting out of the carriage.

La petite Lisette wondered what all this was to lead to, seeing him and Georgina's travelling maid, (not Winter) descend from the barouche. She willingly, however, attended them, answering all their questions with great promptness; but when she found what was their aim, her countenance suddenly. fell, she shook her head, and exclaimed with that

pretty ton douloureux which none but a French girl

can express.

"Hélas! c'est impossible. Nous n'avons rien digne de Mademoiselle ni chambre, ni lit: et ma mère ! oh! comme cela est malheureux !"

Evelyn answered with a "comment ?" and found that this little Lisette, who at most was but thirteen, had been left with her father, a market gardener, for two days, in charge of the cottage, while her mother was gone to put in order the chateau, on a neighbouring hill above, belonging to a gentleman who was expected every day from the south.

"C'est malheureux," repeated Lisette, "il n'y a rien, ni pour la cuisine, ni pour la chambre, point de salon, point de linge, rien que des fleurs," looking at her own face, and the rose in her hair, in the only bit of glass to be found in the cottage.

In effect, however, Evelyn was much better satisfied than he himself, much more Lisette, could have expected. The cottage was, in fact, a fishing-house, belonging to the chateau above; there was a good sitting room, and at least one good bed-chamber; and every body knows that in France, whatever else may be wanting, tolerable bedding is generally sure to be found.

The barouche contained all requisite linen, and all materials for Georgina's little messes; in short, she got out of the carriage too, and seated herself,

after rather a fatiguing day, in the freshest of French windows, looking immediately into the smooth gliding river beneath, from which the last gleams of twilight seemed to be retiring, while a lovely moon was just beginning to rise. Here she continued, and endeavoured to soothe her weakened spirits, while her kind father, with her maid, a French travelling valet, and the proud and pleased Lisette, had soon put every thing in the best order the adventure (for so for want of a better it seemed) would admit of.

"This is better than the Lion d'Or," said Evelyn, pressing her hand, after both had in silence been contemplating the beautiful night vision, at the still open window of the pretty fishing-house.

"That river is not unlike the Wharfe in dear England," observed Georgina, with a sigh.

freshed, and by no means the worse for having slept in a pure honey-suckled air, instead of the smoke of the