An old pollard-oak stood near it, and from the oak there came a low discordant sound; it was the hungry cry of young ravens, awaiting the belated return of the parent bird! Mr.Dale put his hand to his brow, paused a moment, and then, with a hurried step, passed through the little garden, and knocked at the door.

A light was burning in the parlour, and Mr.Dale's eye caught through the window a vague outline of three forms.

There was an evident bustle within at the sound of the knock.

One of the forms rose and disappeared.

A very prim, neat, middle-aged maid-servant now appeared at the threshold, and austerely inquired the visitor's business.
"I want to see Mr.or Mrs.Avenel.Say that I have come many miles to see them; and take in this card." The maid-servant took the card, and half closed the door.