Is That All?

IS THAT ALL - CONTENTS. - CHAPTER I. PACE. CALL IT SOT PROVIXCIA . L . . . . 7 CHAPTER 11. . . . . 23 CHAPTER 111. T YGEL UXAWARES . . . . 46 CHAPTER IV. LTOTIIE . R . . . 64 CHAPTER V. CHIEFLY C HORAL . . . 81 CHAPTER VI. AT TEE Pn-ions . . 98 CHAPTER VII. AT TILE XDEBSOSS . . 115 vi CONTENTS. CIIAPTEE VIII. PACE. THE EARTHLYPA BADISE . . . 13s CHAPTER IX. ON TEE ICE . . 8 8 151 CHAPTER X. BREAKING TEE ICE . . . . 170 CHAPTER XI. CO WUSION . . . . 203 CHAPTER XII. RESOLUTIO . N . . . . . . 223 IS THAT ALL CHAPTER I. CALL IT NOT PROVINCIAL IN the first. of November, just tell years 0 ago, the great world of Guildford hrd all come back to t o nV. e ritable mctropolitnns, of recent wealth and eminence, may smile at t, he notion that so uilimporta lta placc call have a vrcat vorlda t all but a11 who are well versed b in the social traditions of this country understand perfectly the import of the phrase one of tllc bcst families of Guildford. I am in a ositioii to introduce my rcaclcr to the bcst f lrnilies, but it must of course depend somewhat upon himself whether ho malres his way among them. PA fine, mature old inlaild city is Guilclforcl, as the summer tourists who sometimes rest there for s night, on their swift transit along the great railway-routes that graze it, only begin to Irnom. If haply these, after part llr ing of n multifarious late cli lnera t the biggest allcl costliest of Guildforcls hotels, wander upwnrcl and estmarcl in the late snnset, they fincl broad, quiet streets, elm-shacled, ailcl relieved by tidy, bowery little parlcs, with hand some houses, and clderly churches, not too many or too fine. Highest of all - for the cross-streets are very tolerably steep - theycomc 1113011 a truly noble avenue. Here the houses are set far npnrt, 311d separatccl by old-fashioned lawns and gardens. Hardly one of these mansions will own to less than sixty or seventy years - which is almost as good for pmcticsl purposes as bnttlemcnts nncl n moat - and their deep-seated rear vii clo vs look d o n upon an undefiled stretch of the IS TlTdT ALL 9 river, 1 11ich almost c lfolds Guildforcl in its sharp curvc, and, beyoncl this, over n peculiarly s veet expanse of farming, fruit-growing country. Thc inquisitive tourist, whom for a, moment we fbllow, l reathccl n little by the stccp ascellt, is wont to rest awhile agaiilst thc foliagecro nedst, r ict gnrdeo-walls thnt intervene bet veeii thc houscs on i v e rA venue, and, blinking in the last rays of the vanishi lg sun, to voncler why the bouscs arc a11 closcd, ancl tlle gardens into which 11c pccps n triflc neglected and overgrown, ancl why in tho world peo le w11o own such places need abandon them in the summer. Lilrc many other need less t h i gist, is n fashion. The people who originally built the Rivcr Avenue houses happenecl, almost all of them, to possess farms ailcl orcharcls some vhero in thnt stretch of green country to the west, and to care enough for these, and for a genuine old-fashioned coun try life, to retain them and retlirn thither for some part, at least, of every summer and the taste has been cherishecl. Of course, then, the custom would be imitated as closely as possible by the people who came to live in those other pleasant streets which were created a little lower than River Avenue, and I hnvc occasionally hearcl the denizens of these last allege in esplnl ation of their perfunctory exile, thatthcy like to avoid the espionage of our poor, harmless, iclle cummes tourists. There is a little affectation in this. I cannot but thinlr that the people of Second and Third Stl-eets often find the custom irl...