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102 to O, the solitary waitings in inns for coaches or trains—for there were some railways then—and, finally, the meeting at O with Mr. Murray's servant, who had been sent, with the phaeton, to drive me from thence to Horton Lodge.

I will just state that the heavy snow had thrown such impediments in the way of both horses and steam-engines, that it was dark some hours before I reached my journey's end, and that a most bewildering storm came on at last, which made the few miles' space between O and Horton Lodge a long and formidable passage. I sat resigned, with the cold, sharp snow drifting through my veil, and filling my lap, seeing nothing, and wondering how the unfortunate horse and driver could make their way even as well as they did, and indeed it was but a toilsome, creeping style of progression to say the best of it.

At length we paused; and, at the call of the driver, some one unlatched and rolled back upon their creaking hinges, what appeared to be, the park gates. Then we proceeded along a smoother road, whence, occasionally, I perceived some huge, hoary mass gleaming