e plainest.

This Mr Frank Cheeryble, although, to judge from what had recently taken
place, a hot-headed young man (which is not an absolute miracle and
phenomenon in nature), was a sprightly, good-humoured, pleasant fellow,
with much both in his countenance and disposition that reminded Nicholas
very strongly of the kind-hearted brothers. His manner was as unaffected
as theirs, and his demeanour full of that heartiness which, to most
people who have anything generous in their composition, is peculiarly
prepossessing. Add to this, that he was good-looking and intelligent,
had a plentiful share of vivacity, was extremely cheerful, and
accommodated himself in five minutes' time to all John Browdie's
oddities with as much ease as if he had known him from a boy; and it
will be a source of no great wonder that, when they parted for the
night, he had produced a most favourable impression, not only upon the
worthy Yorkshireman and his wife, but upon Nicholas also, who, revolving
all these things in his mind as he made the best of his way home,
arrived at the conclusion that he had laid the foundation of a most
agreeable and desirable acquaintance.

'But it's a most extraordinary thing about that register-office fellow!'
thought Nicholas. 'Is it likely that this nephew can know anything about
that beautiful girl? When Tim Linkinwater gave me to understand the
other day that he was coming to take a share in the business here, he
said he had been superintending it in Germany for four years, and that
during the last six months he had been engaged in establishing an agency
in the north of England. That's four years and a half--four years and a
half. She can't be more than seventeen--say eighteen at the outside. She
was quite a child when he went away, then. I should say he knew nothing
about her and had never seen her, so HE can give me no information. At
all events,' thought Nicholas, coming to the real point in his mind,
'there can be no danger of any prior occupation of her affections in
that quarter; that's quite clear.'

Is selfishness a necessary ingredient in the composition of that passion
called love, or does it deserve all the fine things which poets, in the
exercise of their undoubted vocation, have said of it? There are, no
doubt, authenticated instances of gentlemen having given up ladies
and ladies having given up gentlemen to meritorious rivals, under
circumstances of great high-mindedness; but is it quite establi