chambers, the glare of light subdued by green blinds without, and clean curtains within. How our outraged sense of harmony and good taste lingers over the conveniences, as well as decorations belonging to a past life, from which, by a strange and new turning of the wheel of destiny, we seem to be entirely and forever banished.
The habits of years, how strong they become! The tones of a piano, even though it were but the simple practice of a new learner, how gratefully it would break upon our ears! The tones of a bell, telling the hour of day or night^ calling to church, or tolling a funeral knell the distant rumble, the nearer whirl, and still more near shrill whistle of the steam engine, how, as never before, would they make us feel not quite banished from the earth!
Now "Uncle Jeff" comes to me with tea, and the promise of a place by the fire tomorrow, should the weather moderate. He tells me, too, of a grand hunt which is to come off in a week, the game to be served up in the dining-room of the yet-unfinished hotel. He presents me an invitation to the supper,
