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230 for a petitioner; it was certainly one most becoming to the wearer. The black set off the pure white skin and the gloss of the golden hair, and it suited the pensive and subdued expression that had become habitual to Ethel's sweet countenance. A drive to Chelsea was a very different thing in those days to what it is in ours; it was then literally going out of town, and the huge coach-and-six made its stately way beneath old trees, and through green and shady lanes. I cannot say much for the cheerfulness of Chelsea now-a-days: it would seem as if past gaiety always flung a deeper shadow over the places where it once held sway. The large old houses, darkened with many years, have a gloomy appearance; and the chances of the present day are, that they have transmigrated into boarding-schools and mad-houses. No vestige remains of that luxuriant growth of almond-trees, for which it was formerly celebrated. There is something peculiarly lovely in the almond-blossom; it brings the warmth of the rose on the last cold airs of winter, a