verty
itself. This was the case with my poor father. Had he been rich, the
ruins would not have existed: he would have rebuilt the old mansion.
As he was poor, he valued himself on their existence, and fancied
magnificence in every handful of moss. But all life is delusion: all
pride, all vanity, all pomp, are equally deceit. Like the Spanish
hidalgo, we put on spectacles when we eat our cherries, in order that
they may seem ten times as big as they are!"

Constance smiled; and Lady Erpingham, who had more kindness than
delicacy, continued her praises of the Priory and the scenery round it.

"The old park," said she, "with its wood and water, is so beautiful! It
wants nothing but a few deer, just tame enough to come near the ruins,
and wild enough to start away as you approach."

"Now you would borrow an attraction from wealth," said Godolphin,
who, unlike English persons in general, seemed to love alluding to his
poverty: "it is not for the owner of a ruined Priory to consult the
aristocratic enchantments of that costly luxury, the Picturesque. Alas!
I have not even wherewithal to feed a few solitary partridges; and I
hear, that if I go beyond the green turf, once a park, I shall be warned
off forthwith, and my very qualification disputed."

"Are you fond of shooting?" said Lady Erpingham.

"I fancy I should be; but I have never enjoyed the sport in England."

"Do pray come, then," said Lady Erpingham, kindly, "and spend your first
week in September here. Let me see: the first of the month will be
next Thursday; dine with us on Wednesday. We have keepers and dogs here
enough, thanks to Robert; so you need only bring your gun."

"You are very kind, dear Lady Erpingham," said Godolphin warmly: "I
accept your invitation at once."

"Your father was a very old friend of mine," said the lady with a sigh.

"He was an old admirer," said the gentleman, with a bow.

CHAPTER XIV.

CONVERSATION BETWEEN GODOLPHIN AND CONSTANCE.--THE COUNTRY LINE AND THE
TOWN LINE.

And Godolphin came on the appointed Wednesday. He was animated that day
even to brilliancy. Lady Erpingham thought him the most charming of men;
and even Constance forgot that he was no match for herself. Gifted and
cultivated as she was, it was not without delight that she listened to
his glowing descriptions of scenery, and to his playful yet somewhat
melancholy strain of irony upon men and their pursuits. The peculiar
features of her mind made her,