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                                 MABEL.

                                A NOVEL,
                           BY EMMA WARBURTON.

                          _IN THREE VOLUMES._

                                VOL. I.


                                LONDON:

                    THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER,
                 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE.
                                 1854.




                                   TO
                         MISS EMMA TYLNEY LONG,
                           THIS WORK
                              IS INSCRIBED
                   AS A SLIGHT BUT SINCERE EXPRESSION
                               OF GRATEFUL ESTEEM.




                                 MABEL.




                               CHAPTER I.

     Oh, timely, happy, timely wise,
     Hearts that with rising morn arise,
     Eyes that the beam celestial view,
     Which evermore makes all things new.

     New every morning is the love,
     Our waking and uprising prove,
     Through sleep and darkness safely brought,
     Restored to life, and power, and thought.

                                                        KEEBLE.


One morning, early in the month of August, a few years since, the sun
rose lazily and luxuriously over the hills that bounded the little
village of Aston, which lay in one of the prettiest valleys of
Gloucestershire. The golden beams of that glorious luminary falling
first upon the ivy-covered tower of the little church, seemed, to the
eye of fancy, to linger with pleasure round the sacred edifice, as if
glad to recognize the altar of Him, who, from the beginning, had fixed
his daily course through the bright circle of the heavens, then pouring
a flood of brilliancy on the simple rectory, danced over the hills, and
played with the many windows