cumstances we are like a man weighing fine gold
dust, who does it to such a nicety that a hair falling into the scale
turns it one way or the other.
In the present instance, our friend Wilton was not unwilling that
something should come in aid of his better judgment; and ordering his
horse he was soon beyond the precincts of London, and riding through
the beautiful fields which at that time extended over ground where
courtiers and ministers have now established their town dwellings.
From the whole demeanour of his companion, from the wild and excited
spirits which he displayed, from the bursts of merriment to which he
gave way, apparently without a sufficient cause, Wilton evidently saw
that there was either some wild scheme working in Lord Sherbrooke's
brain, or the knowledge of some happy event gladdening his heart.
What it was, however, he could not divine, and the young nobleman was
evidently determined on no account to explain. He laughed and jested
with Wilton in regard to the gravity which he could not conquer,
declared that he was the dullest companion that ever had been seen,
and vowed that there could be no more stupid and tiresome companion
for a long ride than a man in love, unless, indeed, it were a lame
horse.
"Indeed, my dear Sherbrooke," replied Wilton, "you should prove, in
the first place, that I am in love, which I can assure you is not the
case, before you attempt to attribute my being grave to that reason.
My very situation in life, and a thousand things connected therewith,
are surely enough to make me sad at times."
"Why, what is there sad in your situation, my dear Wilton?" demanded
Lord Sherbrooke, in the same tone of raillery: "here are you a
wealthy young man--ay, wealthy, Wilton. Have you not yourself told me
that your income exceeds your expenses; while I, on the other hand,
have no income at all, and expenses in abundance? Well, I say you are
here a wealthy young man, with the best prospects in the world,
destined some day to be prime minister for aught I know."
"And who, at this present moment," interrupted Wilton, "has not a
relation upon earth that he knows of; who has never enjoyed a
father's care or a mother's tenderness; who can only guess that his
birth was disgraceful to her whom man's heart is naturally bound to
reverence, without knowing who or what was his father, or who even
was the mother by whose shame he was brought into being."
Lord Sherbrooke was immediately grave, for he saw that Wilton was
hurt; and h