A narrow grave-yard in the heart of a bustling, indifferent city, seenfrom the windows of a gloomy-looking inn, is at no time an object ofenlivening suggestion; and the spectacle is not at its best when the mouldytombstones and funereal umbrage have received the ineffectualrefreshment of a dull, moist snow-fall. If, while the air is thickened by thisfrosty drizzle, the calendar should happen to indicate that the blessedvernal season is already six weeks old, it will be admitted that nodepressing influence is absent from the scene.