Hastening in the direction of the sound, he discovered Thames Darrell, stretched upon the ground. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly. Captain Hilary Roding and his inamorata, Miss Lucilla Froxfield. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. Yon must be mine to-night.
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