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observed with delight to Charlotte, and two or three of the best of them were smartened up with a white Curtain and 'Lodgings to let', and farther on, in the little Green Court of an old Farm House, two Females in elegant white were actually to be seen with their books and camp stools—and in turning the corner of the Baker's shop, the sound of a Harp might be heard through the upper Casement.—Such sights and sounds were highly Blissful to Mr. P.—Not that he had any personal concern in the success of the Village itself; for considering it as too remote from the Beach, he had done nothing there—but it was a most valuable proof of the increasing fashion of the place altogether. If the Village could attract, the Hill might be nearly full.—He anticipated an amazing Season.—At the same time last year, (late in July) there had not been a single Lodger in the Village!—nor did he remember any during the whole Summer, excepting one family of children who came from London for sea air after the hooping Cough, and whose Mother would not let them be nearer the shore for fear of their tumbling in.—'Civilization, Civilization indeed!'—cried Mr. P., delighted. 'Look my dear Mary—Look at William Heeley's windows.—Blue Shoes, and nankin Boots!—Who would have expected such a sight at a Shoemaker's in old Sanditon!—This is new within the Month. There was no blue Shoe when we passed this way a month ago.—Glorious indeed!—Well, I think I have done something in my Day.—Now, for our Hill, our health- breathing Hill.—' In ascending, they passed the Lodge-Gates of Sanditon House, and saw the top of the House itself among its Groves. It was the last Building of former Days in that line of the Parish. A little higher up, the Modern began; and in crossing the Down, a Prospect House, a Bellevue Cottage, and a Denham Placewere to be looked at by Charlotte with the calmness of amused Curiosity, and by Mr. P. with the eager eye which hoped to see scarcely any empty houses.—More Bills at the Window than he had calculated on;—and a smaller shew of company on the Hill— Fewer Carriages, fewer Walkers. He had fancied it just the time of day for them to be all returning from their Airings to dinner—But the Sands and the Terrace always attracted some, and the Tide must be flowing—about half-Tide now.—He longed to be on the Sands, the Cliffs, at his own House, and everywhere out of his House at once. His Spirits rose with the very sight of the Sea and he could almost feel his Ancle getting stronger already.—Trafalgar House, on the most elevated spot on the Down was a light elegant Building, standing in a small Lawn with a very young plantation round it, about an hundred yards from the brow of a steep, but not very lofty Cliff—and the nearest to it, of every Building, excepting one short row of smart-looking Houses, called the Terrace, with a broad walk in front, aspiring to be the Mall of the Place. In this row were the best Milliner's shop and the Library—a little detached from it, the Hotel and Billiard Room—Here began the Descent to the Beach, and to the Bathing Machines—and this was therefore the favourite spot for Beauty and Fashion. At Trafalgar House, rising at a little distance behind the Terrace, the Travellers were safely set down, and all was happiness and Joy between Papa and Mama and their Children; while Charlotte having received possession of her apartment, found amusement enough in standing at her ample Venetian window, and looking over the miscellaneous foreground of unfinished Buildings, waving Linen, and tops of Houses, to the Sea, dancing and sparkling in Sunshine and Freshness.