_Bar._ Not exactly that. You know him. Sunshine or clouds are to him
alike, as long as eternal summer reigns in his own heart and family.

_Mrs. H._ The Count possesses a most cheerful and amiable philosophy.
Ever in the same happy humour; ever enjoying each minute of his life.
But you must confess, my lord, that he is a favourite child of fortune,
and has much to be grateful to her for. Not merely because she has given
him birth and riches, but for a native sweetness of temper, never to be
acquired; and a graceful suavity of manners, whose school must be the
mind. And, need I enumerate among fortune's favours, the hand and
affections of your accomplished sister?

_Bar._ [_More and more struck as her understanding opens upon him._]
True, madam. My good easy brother, too, seems fully sensible of his
happiness, and is resolved to retain it. He has quitted the service to
live here. I am yet afraid he may soon grow weary of Wintersen and
retirement.

_Mrs. H._ I should trust not. They, who bear a cheerful and
unreproaching conscience into solitude, surely must increase the measure
of their own enjoyments. They quit the poor, precarious, the dependent
pleasures, which they borrowed from the world, to draw a real bliss from
that exhaustless source of true delight, the fountain of a pure
unsullied heart.

_Bar._ Has retirement long possessed so lovely an advocate?

_Mrs. H._ I have lived here three years.

_Bar._ And never felt a secret wish for the society you left, and must
have adorned?

_Mrs. H._ Never.

_Bar._ To feel thus belongs either to a very rough or a very polished
soul. The first sight convinced me in which class I am to place you.

_Mrs. H._ [_With a sigh._] There may, perhaps, be a third class.

_Bar._ Indeed, madam, I wish not to be thought forward; but women always
seemed to me less calculated for retirement than men. We have a
thousand employments, a thousand amusements, which you have not.

_Mrs. H._ Dare I ask what they are?

_Bar._ We ride--we hunt--we play--read--write.--

_Mrs. H._ The noble employments of the chase, and the still more noble
employment of play, I grant you.

_Bar._ Nay, but dare I ask what are your employments for a day?

_Mrs. H._ Oh, my lord! you cannot imagine how quickly time passes when a
certain uniformity guides the minutes of our life. How often do I ask,
"Is Saturday come again so soon?" On a bright cheerful morning, my books
and breakfast are carried out up