anion is fond of flowers?" said I.

The fair Fanny laughed. "I don't think he knows one from another."

"Nor I either," said I,--"that is, when I fairly lose sight of a rose or
a hollyhock."

"The farm will interest you more," said Lady Ellinor.

We came to farm buildings recently erected, and no doubt on the
most improved principle. Lady Ellinor pointed out to me machines and
contrivances of the newest fashion for abridging labor and perfecting
the mechanical operations of agriculture.

"Ah! then Mr. Trevanion is fond of farming?" The pretty Fanny laughed
again.

"My father is one of the great oracles in agriculture, one of the great
patrons of all its improvements; but as for being fond of farming, I
doubt if he knows his own fields when he rides through them."

We returned to the house; and Miss Trevanion, whose frank kindness
had already made too deep an impression upon the youthful heart of
Pisistratus the Second, offered to show me the picture-gallery. The
collection was confined to the works of English artists; and Miss
Trevanion pointed out to me the main attractions of the gallery.

"Well, at least Mr. Trevanion is fond of pictures?"

"Wrong again," said Fanny, shaking her arched head. "My father is said
to be an admirable judge; but he only buys pictures from a sense of
duty,--to encourage our own painters. A picture once bought, I am not
sure that he ever looks at it again."

"What does he then--" I stopped short, for I felt my meditated question
was ill-bred.

"What does he like then? you were about to say. Why, I have known him,
of course, since I could know anything; but I have never yet discovered
what my father does like. No,--not even politics; though he lives for
politics alone. You look puzzled; you will know him better some day, I
hope; but you will never solve the mystery--what Mr. Trevanion likes."

"You are wrong," said Lady Ellinor, who had followed us into the
room, unheard by us. "I can tell you what your father does more than
like,--what he loves and serves every hour of his noble life,--justice,
beneficence, honor, and his country. A man who loves these may be
excused for indifference to the last geranium or the newest plough, or
even (though that offends you more, Fanny) the freshest masterpiece by
Lanseer, or the latest fashion honored by Miss Trevanion."

"Mamma!" said Fanny, and the tears sprang to her eyes. But Lady Ellinor
looked to me sublime as she spoke, her eyes kindl