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A riding-habit is all I have seen. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. He had thought it might have that effect. .
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