It belongs to a man you have often heard of,--Mr.Maltravers." "Indeed!" cried Evelyn; and she gazed with new interest on the gray melancholy pile, as the sunshine brought it into strong contrast with the dark pines around it.

"And Mr.Maltravers himself-- ?" "Is still abroad, I believe; though I did hear the other day that he was shortly expected at Burleigh.

It is a curious old place, though much neglected.

I believe, indeed, it has not been furnished since the time of Charles the First.

(Cissy, my love, don't stoop so.) Very gloomy, in my opinion; and not any fine room in the house, except the library, which was once a chapel.