Here Walden, unable to read very quickly at the window, stepped out on the lawn, still holding the letter close to his eyes.  “A most undesirable neighbour”—­he-murmured-"Yes—­now let me see!—­where is that phrase?—­Oh, here it is,—­’a most undesirable neighbour.’” And he read on:-"I allude to Miss Vancourt, the only child of the late Robert Vancourt who was killed some years ago in the hunting field.  The girl was taken away at her father’s death by her uncle Frederick, who, having sown an unusual crop of wild oats, had married one of those inordinately wealthy American women to whom the sun itself appears little more than a magnified gold-piece—­and of course between the two she has had a very bad training.  Frederick Vancourt was the worst and weakest of the family, and his wife has been known for years as a particularly hardened member of the ‘smart’ set.  Under their tutelage Miss Vancourt, or ‘Maryllia Van,’ as she appears to be familiarly known and called in society, has attained a rather unenviable notoriety; and when I heard the other day that she had left her aunt’s house in a fit of ungovernable temper, and had gone to her own old house to live, I thought at once of you with a pang of pity.  For, if I remember rightly, you have a great opinion of the Manor as an unspoilt relic of Tudor times, and have always been rather glad that it was left to itself without any modern improvement or innovation.  I can imagine nothing worse to your mind than the presence of a ‘smart’ lady in the unsophisticated village of St. Rest!  However, you may take heart of grace, as it is not likely she will stay there long.  Rumour asserts that she is shortly to be married to Lord Roxmouth,—­he who will be Duke of Ormistoune and owner of that splendid but half-ruined pile, Roxmouth Castle.  She has, it appears, kept this poor gentleman dancing attendance on her for a sufficient time to make evident to the world her desire to secure his title, and her present sudden capricious retirement into country life is understood to be a mere ruse to draw him more swiftly on to his matrimonial doom.  No doubt he has an eye on Mrs. Fred Vancourt’s millions, which her niece would inherit in the event of her marrying a future English duke,—­still, from what I gather, he would deserve some compensation for risking his life’s happiness with such a very doubtful partner.  But I daresay I am retailing information with which you are no doubt already quite familiar, and in all probability ‘Maryllia Van’ is not likely to cross your path at any time, as among her other reported characteristics is that of a cheap scorn for religion,—­a scorn which sits so unbecomingly on our modern women, and forbodes so much disaster in the future, they being the mothers of the coming race.  I expect the only circumstance likely to trouble your calm and pleasant routine of life and labour is, that the present occupation of Abbot’s Manor may have stopped some of your romantic rambles in the beautiful woods surrounding it!