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To break the calm of Nature:,Yew-trees—grown till they form high walls—are cut and shaped in prim and perfect order, some like the walls of ancient Troy, some like steps of stairs. Little doors are opened through them, and passing in and out one walks on for a mile almost, until one loses one's way and grows puzzled how to extricate one's self from so charming a maze.,"Why, what is the matter?" he says, seeing signs of the lively storm on all their faces. Doatie explains hurriedly.,He groans within him that he cannot think of any speech bordering on the Grandisonian, that may be politely addressed to this sylvan nymph; but all such speeches fail him. Who can she be? Were ever eyes so liquid before, or lips so full of feeling?,"Yes,—in her own estimation," says the duchess, somewhat severely, whose crowning horror is a frisky matron, to which title little Mrs. Lennox may safely lay claim.,"Arrah! throuble is it?" says Betty, scornfully. "Tisn't throuble I'm thinkin' of anyway, when you're by.",It is dreary waiting. No sleep comes to her eyes; she barely moves; the dogs slumber drowsily, and moan and start in their sleep, "fighting their battles o'er again," it may be, or anticipating future warfare. Slowly, ominously, the clock strikes twelve. Two hours have slipped into eternity; midnight is at hand!,"It is very strange," says Mona, with a dissatisfied sigh, "but I'll tell you all about it by and by.","Open at this hour of the morning?","The day is done, and the darkness falls from the wings of night." The dusk is slowly creeping up over all the land, the twilight is coming on apace. As the day was, so is the gathering eve, sad and mournful, with sounds of rain and sobbings of swift winds as they rush through the barren beeches in the grove. The harbor bar is moaning many miles away, yet its voice is borne by rude Boreas up from the bay to the walls of the stately Towers, that neither rock nor shiver before the charges of this violent son of "imperial Æolus.",She has actually forgotten to pose, and is leaning forward quite comfortably with her arms crossed on her knees. I am convinced she has not been so happy for years.,The little pathetic insinuation is as perfect as it is touching..