trayed, no doubt, some little
of what I felt within,--'We have had enough of this subject; if we can
only speak to slander our betters, let us hold our tongues.'

'I think you'd better,' observed Fergus, 'and so does our good parson; he
has been addressing the company in his richest vein all the while, and
eyeing you, from time to time, with looks of stern distaste, while you
sat there, irreverently whispering and muttering together; and once he
paused in the middle of a story or a sermon, I don't know which, and
fixed his eyes upon you, Gilbert, as much as to say, "When Mr. Markham
has done flirting with those two ladies I will proceed."'

What more was said at the tea-table I cannot tell, nor how I found
patience to sit till the meal was over. I remember, however, that I
swallowed with difficulty the remainder of the tea that was in my cup,
and ate nothing; and that the first thing I did was to stare at Arthur
Graham, who sat beside his mother on the opposite side of the table, and
the second to stare at Mr. Lawrence, who sat below; and, first, it struck
me that there was a likeness; but, on further contemplation, I concluded
it was only in imagination.

Both, it is true, had more delicate features and smaller bones than
commonly fall to the lot of individuals of the rougher sex, and
Lawrence's complexion was pale and clear, and Arthur's delicately fair;
but Arthur's tiny, somewhat snubby nose could never become so long and
straight as Mr. Lawrence's; and the outline of his face, though not full
enough to be round, and too finely converging to the small, dimpled chin
to be square, could never be drawn out to the long oval of the other's,
while the child's hair was evidently of a lighter, warmer tint than the
elder gentleman's had ever been, and his large, clear blue eyes, though
prematurely serious at times, were utterly dissimilar to the shy hazel
eyes of Mr. Lawrence, whence the sensitive soul looked so distrustfully
forth, as ever ready to retire within, from the offences of a too rude,
too uncongenial world. Wretch that I was to harbour that detestable idea
for a moment! Did I not know Mrs. Graham? Had I not seen her, conversed
with her time after time? Was I not certain that she, in intellect, in
purity and elevation of soul, was immeasurably superior to any of her
detractors; that she was, in fact, the noblest, the most adorable, of her
sex I had ever beheld, or even imagined to exist? Yes, and I would sa