'And whose very snug-looking Place is this?'—said Charlotte, as in a sheltered Dip within two miles of the Sea, they passed close by a moderate-sized house, wellfenced and planted, and rich in the Garden, Orchard andMeadows which are the best embellishments of such a Dwelling. 'It seems to have as many comforts about it as Willingden.'—'Ah'— said Mr. P.—'This is my old House—the house of my Forefathers—the house where I and all my Brothers and Sisters were born and bred—and where my own three eldest Children were born—where Mrs. P. and I lived till within the last two years—till our new House was finished.—I am glad you are pleased with it.—It is an honest old Place—and Hillier keeps it in very good order. I have given it up you know to the Man who occupies the chief of my Land. He gets a better House by it—and I, a rather better situation!—one other Hill brings us to Sanditon— modern Sanditon—a beautiful Spot. Our Ancestors, you know always built in a hole.—Here were we, pent down in this little contracted Nook, without Air or View, only one mile and three quarters from the noblest expanse of Ocean between the South foreland and the Land's end, and without the smallest advantage from it. You will not think I have made a bad exchange, when we reach Trafalgar House—which by the bye, I almost wish I had not named Trafalgar—for Waterloo is more the thing now. However, Waterloo is in reserve—and if we have encouragement enoughthis year for a little Crescent to be ventured on—(as I trust we shall) then, we shall be able to call it Waterloo Crescent—and the name joined to the form of the Building, which always takes, will give us the command of Lodgers. In a good Season we should have more applications than we could attend to.'—'It was always a very comfortable House'—said Mrs. Parker—looking at it through the back window with something like the fondness of regret.—'And such a nice Garden—such an excellent Garden.' 'Yes, my Love, but that we may be said to carry with us.—It supplies us, as before, with all the fruit and vegetables we want; and we have in fact all the comfort of an excellent Kitchen Garden, without the constant Eyesore of its formalities; or the yearly nuisance of its decaying vegetation.—Who can endure a Cabbage Bed in October?' 'Oh! dear—yes—We are quite as well off for Gardenstuff as ever we were—for if it is forgot to be brought at any time, we can always buy what we want at Sanditon-House.—The Gardiner there, is glad enough to supply us. But it was a nice place for the Children to run about in. So Shady in Summer!' 'My dear, we shall have shade enough on the Hill and more than enough in the course of a very few years;—The Growth of my Plantations is a general astonishment. In the mean while we have the Canvas Awning, which gives us the most complete comfort within doors—and you can get a Parasol at Whitby's for little Mary at any time, or a large Bonnet at Jebb's—and as for the Boys, I must say I would rather them run about in the Sunshine than not. I am sure we agree my dear, in wishing our Boys to be as hardy as possible.'—'Yes indeed, I am sure we do—and I will get Mary a little Parasol, which will make her as proud as can be. How Grave she will walk about with it, and fancy herself quite a little Woman.—Oh! I havenot the smallest doubt of our being a great deal better off where we are now. If we any of us want to bathe, we have not a quarter of a mile to go.—But you know, (still looking back) one loves to look at an old friend, at a place where one has been happy.—The Hilliers did not seem to feel the Storms last Winter at all.—I remember seeing Mrs. Hillier after one of those dreadful Nights, when we had been literally rocked in our bed, and she did not seem at all aware of the Wind being anything more than common.' 'Yes, yes—that's likely enough. We have all the Grandeur of the Storm, with less real danger, because the Wind meeting with nothing to oppose or confine it around our House, simply rages and passes on—while down in this Gutter—nothing is known of the state of the Air, below the Tops of the Trees—and the Inhabitants may be taken totally unawares, by one of those dreadful Currents which do more mischief in a Valley, when they do arise than an open Country ever experiences in the heaviest Gale.—But my dear Love—as to Gardenstuff;—you were saying that any accidental omission is supplied in a moment by Lady D.'s Gardiner—but it occurs to me that we ought to go elsewhere upon such occasions—and that old Stringer and his son have a higher claim. I encouraged him to set up—and am afraid he does not do very well—that is, there has not been time enough yet.—He will do very well beyond a doubt—but at first it is Uphill work; and therefore we must give him what Help we can—and when any Vegetables or fruit happen to be wanted—and it will not be amiss to have them often wanted, to have something or other forgotten most days;—Just to have a nominal supply you know, that poor old Andrew may not lose his daily Job—but in fact to buy the chief of our consumption of the Stringers.' 'Very well my Love, that can beeasily done—and Cook will be satisfied—which will be a great comfort, for she is always complaining of old Andrew now, and says he never brings her what she wants.—There—now the old House is quite left behind.—What is it, your Brother Sidney says about it's being a Hospital?' 'Oh! my dear Mary, merely a Joke of his. He pretends to advise me to make a Hospital of it. He pretends to laugh at my Improvements. Sidney says any thing you know. He has always said what he chose of and to us, all. Most Families have such a member among them I believe Miss Heywood.—There is a someone in most families privileged by superior abilities or spirits to say anything.—In ours, it is Sidney; who is a very clever Young Man,—and with great powers of pleasing.—He lives too much in the World to be settled; that is his only fault.—He is here and there and every where. I wish we may get him to Sanditon. I should like to have you acquainted with him.—And it would be a fine thing for the Place!—Such a young Man as Sidney, with his neat equipage and fashionable air,—You and I Mary, know what effect it might have: Many a respectable Family, many a careful Mother, many a pretty Daughter, might it secure us, to the prejudice of E. Bourne and Hastings.'—They were now approaching the Church and real village of Sanditon, which stood at the foot of the Hill they were afterwards to ascend—a Hill, whose side was covered with the Woods and enclosures of Sanditon House and whose Height ended in an open Down where the new Buildings might soon be looked for. A branch only, of the Valley, winding more obliquely towards the Sea, gave a passage to an inconsiderable Stream, and formed at its mouth, a third Habitable Division, in a small cluster of Fisherman's Houses.—The Village contained little more than Cottages, but the Spirit of the day had been caught, as Mr. P.
