nking in England.

Good Humour not appearing to relish his brother's receipt for making
_vin ordinaire_, changed the subject, by observing that a woman who was
standing at the door of an _auberge_ where we were stopping had a very
fine expression of countenance, although rather thin and pale, but that
there was a pensive cast which prevailed throughout her features and
rendered the _tout ensemble_ interesting.

"Oh very _fine_, indeed," said Discontent, with a sarcastic smile, "as
complete a picture of skin and grief as one could wish to see. Pray,
sir, is she one of your beauties?"

I admitted that her appearance was rather pleasing, but that beauty was
out of the question, nor did I understand his brother to have made any
remark conveying the idea that she possessed that charm so truly rare.

"What a delightful house and garden," exclaimed. Good Humour, as we
passed by a residence, that had rather an inviting appearance; "now, is
it not an agreeable spot to live in," he continued, as he turned to me
with a look, so assured of confirmation on my part, that I could not
find it in my heart to disappoint him. But as I was about to answer,
Discontent grumbled out a few words, which I think were to the effect,
that where the country was so hideously frightful, that any thing that
was decent attracted notice, but that the same object in England would
not have been regarded; asking me if I had ever travelled through a more
ugly country in my life.

However I felt inclined to check his tendency to condemn all he beheld,
yet I could not in truth otherwise than acknowledge that it was as
uninteresting as it was possible to be, of which every one must be aware
who has travelled from Calais to Boulogne.

Good Humour, however, was still undaunted, and a rather jolly, and very
rosy, looking young female passing at the moment, elicited from him the
exclamation of "Oh, what a pretty girl, and good natured!"

"The very type of fat contented ignorance," interrupted Discontent,
without allowing his brother to finish his sentence.

Soon after we entered Boulogne, where the white houses, lively green
shutters, and cleanly appearance of the Grande Rue attracted the
admiration of Good Humour, who observed with his usual energetic
manner, "What a cheerful pleasant looking town, and how very pretty the
houses are!"

"For outside show, well enough, which may be said of most things in
France," murmured Discontent; "but see the inside o