changeableness.'

'You always did him justice,' said Lord Ormersfield, laying his hand on
his cousin's shoulder, but James retreated ungraciously.

'I suppose, where he saw evil, he actually took a dislike,' said Mrs.
Ponsonby.

'It is an absolute repugnance to anything bad. You,' turning again on
the Earl, 'had an idea of his being too ready to run into all sorts of
company; but I told you there was no danger.'

'You told me I might trust to his disgust to anything unrefined or
dissipated. You knew him best.'

'There is that about him which men, not otherwise particular, respect
as they might a woman or a child. They never show themselves in their
true colours, and I have known him uphold them because he has never
seen their worst side!'

'I have always thought he learnt that peculiar refinement from your
grandmother.'

'I think,' said Mrs. Ponsonby, softly, 'that it is purity of heart
which makes him see heaven so bright.'

'Sydney Calcott walked part of the way with me,' continued Jem, 'and
showed more feeling than I thought was in him. He said just what I do,
that he never saw any one to whom evil seemed so unable to cling. He
spoke of him at school--said he was the friend of all the juniors, but
too dreamy and uncertain for fellows of his own standing. He said, at
first they did not know what to make of him, with his soft looks and
cool ways--they could not make him understand bullying, for he could
not be frightened nor put in a passion. Only once, one great lout
tried forcing bad language on him, and then Fitzjocelyn struck him,
fought him, and was thoroughly licked, to be sure: but Calcott said it
was a moral victory--no one tried the like again--'

James was interrupted by Mr. Holdsworth's entrance. He said a few
words apart to the Earl, who answered, with alarm, 'Not now; he has
gone through enough.'

'I told him so, but he is very anxious, and begged me to return in the
evening.'

'Thank you. You had better join us at dinner.'

The Vicar understood Lord Ormersfield better than did James, and said,
pressing his hand, 'My Lord, it is heart-breaking, but the blessedness
is more than we can feel.'

Mrs. Ponsonby and Mary were left to try to pacify James, who was half
mad at his exclusion from the sickroom, and very angry with every hint
of resignation--abusing the treatment of the doctors, calling Mr. Walby
an old woman, and vehemently bent on prophesying the well-doing of the
patient.