"Your voice seems familiar to me--and--but I'm getting a little deaf--and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light." "Never mind," returned the stranger, dismounting; "you'll recollect me by and by, I've no doubt.

I bring you tidings of an old friend." "Then you're heartily welcome, Sir, whoever you are.

Pray, walk in.
Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable--see him dressed and fed directly.

Now, Sir, will you please to follow me ?" Mr.Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers.

There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs.Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,--as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter.
Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year.