we almost always fancy it is absolutely necessary we should talk.
"It is indeed," replied Lorraine; "I know no places that so realise my ideas of luxury as these villas—so near our crowded, hot, dusty, noisy metropolis; yet so green, so cool, so quiet, and so filled with flowers. I dislike Richmond itself exceedingly; just a place to visit on Sunday—with its hill covered with people, evidently labouring, not against its height, but their own good dinner. The curse of the steam-boat is upon the lovely river; but some of the villas, imbedded in their own old trees—surrounded by turf the fairy queen might tread—girdled with every variety of flowery shrub—I do not quite say I could spend the whole day there, but I could have a luxurious breakfast—one ought to indulge in natural tastes of a morning. Alas! with what regret do I see the brick-dust generation in which we live, so prolific in squares, crescents, places, rows, streets,—tall, stiff houses, with red curtains and white blinds! If this city system of colonisation goes on, our children will advertise a green tree, like an elephant, as 'this most wonderful production of nature;' and the meaning of green
