We used to live at the foot of the continuation of the range of the Malvern Hills, on the borders of Herefordshire and Worcestershire. That is, my father, mother, I and an old faithful servant, Martha Warmart. Martha had been my mother's maid before she married my father, and was quite a confidential member of the family. Indeed, the idea of her leaving us never entered either her head or ours. Our other servants rarely stayed longer than a year or so because we lived in such a quiet hum-drum spot, amongst such perfect clod-hoppers, that there was a scarcity of beaux; and what woman, saving a staid, elderly one, can be expected to like a place where the engaging male sex is so sadly wanting? Until I was sixteen years old I had lived in this dear old house, and so even and tranquil was my life that I never contemplated leaving the place. If my father and mother had grown any older during those years I did not notice it. To me they were ever the same, and so indeed was Martha. My father was a great reader of books, much versed in science, and his delight and my pleasure was my being taught by him. Botany, geology, animal and insect nature formed the chief and most interesting portion of our studies; but history, geography, French and Italian also found their place. I learnt to play the piano from my mother, and altogether, though completely without society, my education would have done me credit had I had the advantages of a town maiden's life. As I have said before I was as happy as the day was long, never knowing what a violent emotion was like.

But all this was to come now to an end. One fine morning in the early summer-oh! I have cause to remember the 6th of June-my mother came down to breakfast without my father. She told me she supposed it was a long walk he had taken with me the day previous which must have tried him, but that he was so sound asleep she had not the heart to waken him. We ate our breakfast as usual, only taking care to make as little clatter as possible with our knives, forks, cups and spoons, lest any little noise might reach the ears of the dear sleeper above, and waken him from a sound and refreshing sleep. Ah, me!