onated
Sir Guy with all his heart, and could only solace himself by taking
Deloraine to exercise where he was most likely to meet the hounds. He
further chose to demonstrate that he was not Mr. Edmonstone's servant,
by disregarding some of his stable regulations; but as soon as this came
to his master's knowledge, a few words were spoken so sharp and stern,
that William never attempted to disobey again.

It seemed as if it was the perception that so much was kept back by a
strong force, that made Guy's least token of displeasure so formidable.
A village boy, whom he caught misusing a poor dog, was found a few
minutes after, by Mr. Ross, in a state of terror that was positively
ludicrous, though it did not appear that Sir Guy had said or done much
to alarm him; it was only the light in his eyes, and the strength
of repressed indignation in his short broken words that had made the
impression.

It appeared as if the force of his anger might be fearful, if once it
broke forth without control; yet at the same time he had a gentleness
and attention, alike to small and great, which, with his high spirit
and good nature, his very sweet voice and pleasant smile, made him a
peculiarly winning and engaging person; and few who saw him could help
being interested in him.

No wonder he had become in the eyes of the Edmonstones almost a part of
their family. Mrs. Edmonstone had assumed a motherly control over him,
to which he submitted with a sort of affectionate gratitude.

One day Philip remarked, that he never saw any one so restless as
Guy, who could neither talk nor listen without playing with something.
Scissors, pencil, paper-knife, or anything that came in his way, was
sure to be twisted or tormented; or if nothing else was at hand, he
opened and shut his own knife so as to put all the spectators in fear
for his fingers.

'Yes,' said Laura, 'I saw how it tortured your eyebrows all the time you
were translating Schiller to us. I wondered you were not put out.'

'I consider that to be put out--by which you mean to have the intellect
at the mercy of another's folly--is beneath a reasonable creature,'
said Philip; 'but that I was annoyed, I do not deny. It is a token of a
restless, ill-regulated mind.'

'Restless, perhaps,' said Mrs. Edmonstone 'but not necessarily
ill-regulated. I should think it rather a sign that he had no one to
tell him of the tricks which mothers generally nip in the bud.'

'I was going to say that