site and exterior of Simon's dwelling, he was still more gratified by the neatness and comfort which reigned within. After passing through a pretty large kitchen, whose ample fire-place was well lined with flitches of bacon, they found Dorothy, who seemed many years younger than her husband, busily engaged, in a little parlour on the left, in arranging a few simple articles for the meal to which Simon had alluded, and which that good old poet Tusser has quaintly termed "breakfast doings." She had covered a table, which, from its massy legs, appeared to be of finely-polished oak, with some of her whitest napery, and on it she had placed a loaf of wheaten bread, a few rashers of bacon, some new-laid eggs, a cheese, cream-curds and milk, and a beautifully crisp and white salad, whilst a rosy-cheeked girl was just entering the room with a jug of nut-brown ale.

Their morning's walk would have given both to Helen and Shakspeare an appetite for much coarser food than was now before them; and such, indeed, were the cordial entreaties of Simon and his wife, that to have refused would have seemed not only ungracious, but even un

kind. They, therefore, sate down with the worthy couple, though the bard could not help admiring, as he partook of their plain but wholesome cheer, the somewhat anomalous character of much that was around him; for his kind hostess, like her husband, though perhaps not in an equal degree, showed a bearing and address beyond the class of society to which she apparently belonged. She was, indeed, treated by Helen more as a friend than an inferior, and though habited in the plainest costume of the housewife of those days, in a white hood, a russet-coloured mantle, and with her purse and keys pendent at her side, there was an ease, a courtesy, and gentle self-possession about her which surprised even as much as it pleased.

Nor were there fewer contrasts in the furniture of the cottage, than between the garb and manners of its inmates; for, whilst much of the former was, as to quality and form, in the commonest though neatest style of the farmer of the sixteenth century, there were scattered amongst it indications, considering the rank of life in which they were found, of

very superior taste and acquirements. Thus in the room where our little party was assembled to breakfast, whilst three-legged stools, treene platters, and wooden spoons, with one large pewter salt, formed the sole accompaniments for the table, there were to be seen in various directions, books, and manuscripts, and music and in a parlour on the other side of the little hall or kitchen, the door of which stood open, as did that also of the one in which they sate, in consideration of the warmth of the weather, not only were shelves apparently well loaded with books, very visible, but there lay also reclined against their lower range, an old but richly ornamented harp.

It was just as these singular combinations had made their full impression on the mind of Shakspeare, that Helen Montchensey, after casting a timid and somewhat confused glance towards the opposite apartment, enquired of Simon if he had heard nothing lately of his poor young friend Hubert Gray.

"Ah! Mistress Helen," cried the old man, whilst the tears coursed each other down his cheeks, "I now begin quite to despair; it is nearly

three months since we have seen him here, and he then staid with us but a day, and he seemed so woe-begone and wretched, that I once more tried hard to persuade him to remain with us, and to tell me the real cause of his strange absence and distress of mind; but I could get nothing more from him than his usual declaration, that he was unwilling any longer to be a burthen to us. Ah! Madam, what shall we do? for we loved this dear youth as if he had been our own child, and he will now bring our grey hairs with sorrow to the grave !"

An expression of the deepest sympathy and emotion agitated the pale features of Helen, but she replied not; whilst Shakspeare, after a moment's pause, and with the view of eliciting some further information on a subject which began to interest him, ventured to remark to Simon, that he presumed the little library and instrument in the other room were the property of the young person of whom they were speaking.

"Yes," he replied, "nothing but his book and his harp were once the delight of Hubert Gray; but he is now strangely altered, Sir,

and I can never enter that room, where I have spent so many happy hours with the poor boy, without feeling my heart ache." There was something in the tone and expression with which this was uttered, that strongly affected Shakspeare, and he could not help asking, if he might be allowed for a moment to look into this little study. "It is in strange disorder, Sir," said Dorothy, "for my good man was not willing that any thing should be altered or even moved in it since the dear child left us; but if you will excuse this," she added, looking at her husband as she spoke, "I am sure my Simon will have no objection."

"Give me leave then," said Helen, smiling through her tears, " to act as usher to my friend on this occasion, for Hubert and I," she continued, turning to Shakspeare," haye been long pupils of the same master, and more than once has it happened that when children, we have taken lessons together in this very room, whilst our good Fraser here watched our progress rather with the affection of a parent than a mere instructor. As she said this, they entered the study, whilst Shakspeare could not

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