rcumstances combined, more than the captain imagined, in what is
popularly called putting him out. He had always been hitherto on equal
terms with Guy; indeed, had rather the superiority at Hollywell, from
his age and assumption of character, but here Sir Guy was somebody, the
captain nobody, and even the advantage of age was lost, now that Guy was
married and head of a family, while Philip was a stray young man and his
guest. Far above such considerations as he thought himself, and
deeming them only the tokens of the mammon worship of the time, Philip,
nevertheless, did not like to be secondary to one to whom he had always
been preferred; and this, and perhaps the being half ashamed of it, made
him something more approaching to cross than ever before; but now and
then, the persevering amiability of both would soften him, and restore
him to his most gracious mood.

He gave them their letters when they reached the inn, feeling as if he
had a better right than they, to one which was in Laura's writing, and
when left in solitary possession of the sitting-room--a very pleasant
one, with windows opening on the terrace just above the water--paced up
and down, chafing at his own perplexity of feeling.

Presently they came back; Guy sat down to continue their joint
journal-like letter to Charles, while Amabel made an orderly arrangement
of their properties, making the most of their few books, and taking out
her work as if she had been at home. Philip looked at the books.

'Have you a "Childe Harold" here?' said he. 'I want to look at something
in it.'

'No, we have not.'

'Guy, you never forget poetry; I dare say you can help me out with those
stanzas about the mists in the valley.'

'I have never read it,' said Guy. 'Don't you remember warning me against
Byron?'

'You did not think that was for life! Besides,' he continued, feeling
this reply inconsistent with his contempt for Guy's youth, 'that
applied to his perversions of human passions, not to his descriptions of
scenery.'

'I think,' said Guy, looking up from his letter, 'I should be more
unwilling to take a man like that to interpret nature than anything
else, except Scripture. It is more profane to attempt it.'

'I see what you mean,' said Amabel, thoughtfully.

'More than I do,' said Philip. 'I never supposed you would take my
advice "au pied de la lettre",' he had almost added, 'perversely.'

'I have felt my obligations for that caution ever since I have