grandpapa. How odd people are!
he knows you are not Croesus, but still he has a sort of feeling that you
are a young prince, and do him the greatest honour in coming to his
house; and yet, all the same, he thinks that money is the very grandest
thing in existence. See what prejudice is! He would not allow that he
had any class-reverence, and yet he can no more get rid of it--"

"Miss Beecham, it is very difficult for me to say anything on such a
subject."

"Very difficult, and you show your delicacy by not saying anything. But
you know, apart from this, which is not gratifying, I am rather proud of
grandpapa's way of looking at some things. About saying out your
opinions in public, and yet bearing no malice, for instance. Now, Mr.
Northcote is the very Antipodes to you; therefore you ought to know him
and find out what he means. It would be better for you both. That is
what I call enlarging the mind," said Phoebe with a smile; which was, to
tell the truth, a very pretty smile, and filled with a soft lustre the
blue eyes with which she looked at him. Whether it was this, or the
cogency of her argument, that moved the young Anglican, it would be hard
to say.

"If you are to be the promoter of this new science, I don't object to
studying under you," he said with a great deal of meaning in his voice.

Phoebe gave him another smile, though she shook her head; and then she
turned to the hero on the other side.

"Is it genuine, Mr. Northcote? is it as fine as I thought? There now, I
told you, grandmamma! Have you been telling Mr. Northcote how you picked
it up? I am sure you will present him with a cup and saucer for his
collection in return for his praises."

"Not for the world," said Northcote, with profound seriousness; "break a
set of cream Wedgwood! what do you take me for, Miss Beecham? I don't
mean to say that I would not give my ears to have it--all; but to break
the set--"

"Oh, I beg your pardon! I was not prepared for such delicacy of
feeling--such conscientiousness--"

"Ah!" said Northcote, with a long-drawn breath, "I don't think you can
understand the feelings of an enthusiast. A set of fine China is like a
poem--every individual bit is necessary to the perfection of the whole.
I allow that this is not the usual way of looking at it; but my pleasure
lies in seeing it entire, making the tea-table into a kind of lyric,
elevating the family life by the application of the principles of
abstract beauty to it