ve gone to Nunnwood with a large
party--all the curates and some other gentry of these parts, together
with sundry ladies--and I found the affair insufferably tedious and
absurd; and I have gone quite alone, or accompanied but by Fanny, who
sat in the woodman's hut and sewed, or talked to the goodwife, while I
roamed about and made sketches, or read; and I have enjoyed much
happiness of a quiet kind all day long. But that was when I was
young--two years ago."

"Did you ever go with your cousin, Robert Moore?"

"Yes; once."

"What sort of a companion is he on these occasions?"

"A cousin, you know, is different to a stranger."

"I am aware of that; but cousins, if they are stupid, are still more
insupportable than strangers, because you cannot so easily keep them at
a distance. But your cousin is not stupid?"

"No; but----"

"Well?"

"If the company of fools irritates, as you say, the society of clever
men leaves its own peculiar pain also. Where the goodness or talent of
your friend is beyond and above all doubt, your own worthiness to be his
associate often becomes a matter of question."

"Oh! there I cannot follow you. That crotchet is not one I should choose
to entertain for an instant. I consider myself not unworthy to be the
associate of the best of them--of gentlemen, I mean--though that is
saying a great deal. Where they are good, they are very good, I believe.
Your uncle, by-the-bye, is not a bad specimen of the elderly gentleman.
I am always glad to see his brown, keen, sensible old face, either in my
own house or any other. Are you fond of him? Is he kind to you? Now,
speak the truth."

"He has brought me up from childhood, I doubt not, precisely as he would
have brought up his own daughter, if he had had one; and that is
kindness. But I am not fond of him. I would rather be out of his
presence than in it."

"Strange, when he has the art of making himself so agreeable."

"Yes, in company; but he is stern and silent at home. As he puts away
his cane and shovel-hat in the rectory hall, so he locks his liveliness
in his book-case and study-desk: the knitted brow and brief word for the
fireside; the smile, the jest, the witty sally for society."

"Is he tyrannical?"

"Not in the least. He is neither tyrannical nor hypocritical. He is
simply a man who is rather liberal than good-natured, rather brilliant
than genial, rather scrupulously equitable than truly just--if you can
understand such superf