For some time after the return of the Dove with the Olive Branch, we had no occurrence of any moment either at Stockwell or Sylvany. Every thing proceeded quietly, and I felt that we began to grow. My domestic expenses during the first twelve months were all outlay; nothing was returned upon the capital employed on the twelve hundred acres; but as the clearings advanced, I was satisfied with the ultimate prospect. In the family, however, I began to have some foretaste of the good effects of our emigration. The live stock became productive; it not only supplied all we required for domestic purposes, but afforded a surplus for the new farm. We had even luxuries, and our melons, reared in the open air, would, both in size and flavour, have been ornaments in Covent Garden Market.

But my cares also increased. My agricultural concerns required so much time, that I had but little to spare for the education of my children; and a schoolmaster was the nightly theme of discourse, mingled with regret that we had been so unfortunate as not to obtain the undivulged stranger—for we always spoke of him by that appellation, his name of Jocelyn furnishing no clue to the curiosity which the secrets of his previous life had excited.

Altogether the second summer was, though full of anxieties, much less vexatious than the first. The work was the same, but experience had oiled the wheels, and undertakings which I hesitated at first to engage in were no longer contemplated as formidable. No doubt, example contributed, as well as experience, to produce this equanimity; and I deemed the hours which I occasionally devoted to relaxation well employed in visiting the locations of my neighbours; for although they were not on a scale equal in extent to mine, I perceived that many little useful manipulations might be learned from them.