thing of
familiarity was engendered. And he went out with her, day after day,
showing her all those pretty haunts among the downs which are to be
found in the neighbourhood of Alresford.

This did well for a time, and Mr Whittlestaff thought that he was
progressing. But he had not as yet quite made up his mind that the
attempt should be made at all. If he can be imagined to have talked
to a friend as he talked to himself, that friend would have averred
that he spoke more frequently against marriage,--or rather against
the young lady's marriage,--than in favour of it. "After all it will
never do," he would have said to this friend; "I am an old man, and
an old man shouldn't ask a young girl to sacrifice herself. Mrs
Baggett looks on it only as a question of butchers and bakers. There
are, no doubt, circumstances in which butchers and bakers do come
uppermost. But here the butchers and bakers are provided. I wouldn't
have her marry me for that sake. Love, I fear, is out of the
question. But for gratitude I would not have her do it." It was thus
that he would commonly have been found speaking to his friend. There
were moments in which he roused himself to better hopes,--when he had
drank his glass of whisky and water, and was somewhat elate with the
consequences. "I'll do it," he would then have said to his friend;
"only I cannot exactly say when." And so it went on, till at last he
became afraid to speak out and tell her what he wanted.

Mr Whittlestaff was a tall, thin man, not quite six feet, with a
face which a judge of male beauty would hardly call handsome, but
which all would say was impressive and interesting. We seldom
think how much is told to us of the owner's character by the
first or second glance of a man or woman's face. Is he a fool, or
is he clever; is he reticent or outspoken; is he passionate or
long-suffering;--nay, is he honest or the reverse; is he malicious
or of a kindly nature? Of all these things we form a sudden judgment
without any thought; and in most of our sudden judgments we are
roughly correct. It is so, or seems to us to be so, as a matter of
course,--that the man is a fool, or reticent, or malicious; and,
without giving a thought to our own phrenological capacity, we pass
on with the conviction. No one ever considered that Mr Whittlestaff
was a fool or malicious; but people did think that he was reticent
and honest. The inner traits of his character were very difficult to
be read. Even