n and an appearance of
suppressed indignation, 'he was as well as--as he deserved to be, but
under circumstances I should have deemed incredible for a man so favoured
as he is.' He here looked up and pointed the sentence with a serious bow
to me. I suppose my face was crimson.

'Pardon me, Mrs. Huntingdon,' he continued, 'but I cannot suppress my
indignation when I behold such infatuated blindness and perversion of
taste;--but, perhaps, you are not aware--' He paused.

'I am aware of nothing, sir--except that he delays his coming longer than
I expected; and if, at present, he prefers the society of his friends to
that of his wife, and the dissipations of the town to the quiet of
country life, I suppose I have those friends to thank for it. Their
tastes and occupations are similar to his, and I don't see why his
conduct should awaken either their indignation or surprise.'

'You wrong me cruelly,' answered he. 'I have shared but little of Mr.
Huntingdon's society for the last few weeks; and as for his tastes and
occupations, they are quite beyond me--lonely wanderer as I am. Where I
have but sipped and tasted, he drains the cup to the dregs; and if ever
for a moment I have sought to drown the voice of reflection in madness
and folly, or if I have wasted too much of my time and talents among
reckless and dissipated companions, God knows I would gladly renounce
them entirely and for ever, if I had but half the blessings that man so
thanklessly casts behind his back--but half the inducements to virtue and
domestic, orderly habits that he despises--but such a home, and such a
partner to share it! It is infamous!' he muttered, between his teeth.
'And don't think, Mrs. Huntingdon,' he added aloud, 'that I could be
guilty of inciting him to persevere in his present pursuits: on the
contrary, I have remonstrated with him again and again; I have frequently
expressed my surprise at his conduct, and reminded him of his duties and
his privileges--but to no purpose; he only--'

'Enough, Mr. Hargrave; you ought to be aware that whatever my husband's
faults may be, it can only aggravate the evil for me to hear them from a
stranger's lips.'

'Am I then a stranger?' said he in a sorrowful tone. 'I am your nearest
neighbour, your son's godfather, and your husband's friend; may I not be
yours also?'

'Intimate acquaintance must precede real friendship; I know but little of
you, Mr. Hargrave, except from report.'

'Have you t