w might have had some effect."

"All the effect it has produced is to make him more determined to
take him from me. The Hampshire mind abhors foreign breeding, and
the old Cromwellian spirit thinks good manners sprung from the
world, and wit from the Evil One!"

"I can quite believe that Peregrine's courtly airs are not welcomed
here; I could see what our good neighbour, Sir Philip Archfield,
thought of them; but whereas no power on earth could make the young
gentleman a steady-going clownish youth after his father's heart,
methought he might prefer his present polish to impishness."

"So I told him, but I might as well have talked to the horse block.
It is his duty, quotha, to breed his heir up in godly simplicity!"

"Simplicity is all very well to begin with, but once flown, it
cannot be restored."

"And that is what my brother cannot see. Well, my poor boy must be
left to his fate. There is no help for it, and all I can hope is
that you, sir, and the ladies, will stand his friend, and do what
may lie in your power to make him patient and render his life less
intolerable."

"Indeed, sir, we will do what we can; I wish that I could hope that
it would be of much service."

"My brother has more respect for your advice than perhaps you
suppose; and to you, madam, the poor lad looks with earnest
gratitude. Nay, even his mother reaps the benefit of the respect
with which you have inspired him. Peregrine treats her with a
gentleness and attention such as she never knew before from her bear
cubs. Poor soul! I think she likes it, though it somewhat
perplexes her, and she thinks it all French manners. There is one
more favour, your reverence, which I scarce dare lay before you.
You have seen my black boy Hans?"

"He was with you at Oakwood seven years ago."

"Even so. I bought the poor fellow when a mere child from a Dutch
skipper who had used him scurvily, and he has grown up as faithful
as a very spaniel, and mightily useful too, not only as body
servant, but he can cook as well as any French maitre d'hotel, froth
chocolate, and make the best coffee I ever tasted; is as honest as
the day, and, I believe, would lay down his life for Peregrine or
me. I shall be cruelly at a loss without him, but a physician I met
in London tells me it would be no better than murder to take the
poor rogue to so cold a country as Muscovy. I would leave him to
wait on Perry, but they will not hear of it at Oakwood. My siste