nk it a great
compliment paid to him, though you don't think it nice. He does not
look seriously at life. He amuses himself with everything. Just
compare him with our Davie."

David had gone out before she said this.

"Nonsense! Letty. Our Davie is a boy still, and Mr Philip is a man.
He has completed the course at the university, you know quite well."

"Our Davie is far more manly than he, for all that. And so are you,
Jem. Davie is worth two of him."

"A great deal more than two of him to us, Letty," said her mother,
laughing. "Still, I am inclined to think with Jem, that you are a
little hard on him."

"Yes, she does not like him," said Jem. "And it is odd, too, for he
likes her, and you, mamma, and all of us."

"Oh! yes; I dare say he does. We amuse him for the moment. I know him
better than you do, Jem. I have seen him every day for a fortnight, you
know. I like him very well, but I don't think he is reliable. He is
not in earnest," repeated Violet, solemnly. "And Sunday-school teaching
is not a proper thing to amuse one's self with. It would spoil all the
pleasure of it to have him come there always. However, there is no
danger. He will find something else to amuse him."

Violet was right, as far as Philip's coming to Muddy Lane was concerned.
He did not make his appearance there again for a very long time after
that Sunday. But, having nothing better to do, he seemed quite inclined
to cultivate the acquaintance of the young Inglises, and came to the
bridge house a good deal. Once or twice he brought his little sisters
and Violet down in the boat to tea, and several times he came there
after having been down the river fishing. Once or twice David, coming
home earlier than the others, found him sitting quietly with his mother
and little Mary, to all appearance perfectly satisfied with the
entertainment he was receiving; and his entertainers seemed satisfied
too. David began to consider these frequent visits as an infliction to
be borne patiently, and Violet adhered to her first opinion; but, with
Jem and the children, he was a great favourite. Even the mother was
inclined to make excuses for his faults, and was very kind to him when
he came. The mother knew more about him than the rest did, for he told
her a great deal about himself and his past life during the quiet
afternoons he passed with her and little Mary. And having seen more,
and suffered more, she was inclined to have more