If our young lawyer had any scruples on the score of giving up his profession and thereby losing all chance of ever attaining to the dignity of Lord Chancellor, he certainly kept them to himself, for he had no wish to run counter to the inclination of Kate, or he might find himself in the position of the dog in the fable, who had thrown away the substance to endeavour to grasp the shadow.  Tom, in reality, had never liked a London life, and had a constant hankering after field sports, shooting and fishing; and now he believed he could indulge in these to the top of his bent.  They could live very comfortably on their joint income, for he had received a certain sum on the death of his parents, and likewise made something during the past few years by his profession, which he had increased by placing it out at interest.  Moreover, he knew exactly where to find a house and grounds that would suit them; the very one that Kate had so admired during their strolls around Vellenaux.  It was picturesquely situated in a shady dell, through which ran a flowing brook which deepened and widened as it flowed on towards the sea, and was the favourite resort of the angler and amateur fisherman—­about an equal distance from the Willows and the Rectory, and but a short walk from the woods and park of Vellenaux.  There were Horace’s grounds to shoot over, and although Sir Ralph Coleman was not a neighbour best suited to his taste, yet he felt certain that he would not object to his occasionally using his preserves, or bagging a few brace of birds on his turnip fields.  All this, together with a pretty little loving wife for a companion, was, to Tom’s notion, something worth living for, and a position he would not exchange for all the gaieties of London life with a seat on the woolsack into the bargain.

Again No. 54 Harley Street was thrown into a state of bustle and confusion.  Millinery girls, with innumerable band boxes, and oddly shaped parcels were continually arriving.  In the drawing room there was assembled daily a sort of joint high commission, consisting of a bevy of pretty maidens with one or two handsome matrons, who were engaged in deciding on the colour, material, and cut of certain wearables appertaining to the wedding trousseau of Miss Cotterell.  There were continual visits made to the fashionable emporiums of silk, lace &c., in Oxford and Regent streets, and other parts of the metropolis.  The wedding day at length arrived.  A considerable distance up Harley Street was lined with carriages of various descriptions, the coachmen and footmen of which appeared in holiday costume and wearing white satin favors, and there was quite an excitement in the immediate vicinity to witness the arrival and departure of the wedding party to and from church.  Kate Cotterell, attended by her six bridesmaids all looking very lovely in toilettes befitting the occasion, created quite a sensation among the spectators as they stepped from No. 54 into the carriages that were to convey them to Hanover Square.