My godmother lived in a handsome house in the clean and ancient town of Bretton. Herhusband's family had been residents there for generations, and bore, indeed, the name of theirbirthplace-Bretton of Bretton: whether by coincidence, or because some remote ancestor had beena personage of sufficient importance to leave his name to his neighbourhood, I know not.When I was a girl I went to Bretton about twice a year, and well I liked the visit. The house andits inmates specially suited me. The large peaceful rooms, the well-arranged furniture, the clear widewindows, the balcony outside, looking down on a fine antique street, where Sundays and holidaysseemed always to abide-so quiet was its atmosphere, so clean its pavement-these things pleasedme well.One child in a household of grown people is usually made very much of, and in a quiet way I wasa good deal taken notice of by Mrs. Bretton, who had been left a widow, with one son, before Iknew her; her husband, a physician, having died while she was yet a young and handsome woman.She was not young, as I remember her, but she was still handsome, tall, well-made, and thoughdark for an Englishwoman, yet wearing always the clearness of health in her brunette cheek, and itsvivacity in a pair of fine, cheerful black eyes. People esteemed it a grievous pity that she had notconferred her complexion on her son, whose eyes were blue-though, even in boyhood, verypiercing-and the colour of his long hair such as friends did not venture to specify, except as thesun shone on it, when they called it golden. He inherited the lines of his mother's features, however;also her good teeth, her stature (or the promise of her stature, for he was not yet full-grown), and, what was better, her health without flaw, and her spirits of that tone and equality which are betterthan a fortune to the possessor.In the autumn of the year -- I was staying at Bretton; my godmother having come in person toclaim me of the kinsfolk with whom was at that time fixed my permanent residence. I believe shethen plainly saw events coming, whose very shadow I scarce guessed; yet of which the faintsuspicion sufficed to impart unsettled sadness, and made me glad to change scene and society.Time always flowed smoothly for me at my godmother's side; not with tumultuous swiftness, butblandly, like the gliding of a full river through a plain. My visits to her resembled the sojourn ofChristian and Hopeful beside a certain pleasant stream, with "green trees on each bank, andmeadows beautified with lilies all the year round." The charm of variety there was not, nor theexcitement of incident; but I liked peace so well, and sought stimulus so little, that when the lattercame I almost felt it a disturbance, and wished rather it had still held aloof.One day a letter was received of which the contents evidently caused Mrs. Bretton surprise andsome concern. I thought at first it was from home, and trembled, expecting I know not whatdisastrous communication: to me, however, no reference was made, and the cloud seemed to pass.