ip, who would not
lay himself open to the accusation of being uncandid, 'but you will
forgive me for thinking it rather too deep an explanation of the grounds
of not making Childe Harold a hand-book for Italy, like other people.'

Amabel thought this so dogged and provoking, that she was out of
patience; but Guy only laughed, and said, 'Rather so, considering that
the fact was that we never thought of it.'

There were times when, as Philip had once said, good temper annoyed him
more than anything, and perhaps he was unconsciously disappointed at
having lost his old power of fretting and irritating Guy, and watching
him champ the bit, so as to justify his own opinion of him. Every
proceeding of his cousins seemed to give him annoyance, more especially
their being at home together, and Guy's seeming to belong more to
Hollywell than himself. He sat by, with a book, and watched them, as Guy
asked for Laura's letter, and Amy came to look over his half-finished
answer, laughing over it, and giving her commands and messages, looking
so full of playfulness and happiness, as she stood with one hand on the
back of her husband's chair, and the other holding the letter, and Guy
watching her amused face, and answering her remarks with lively words
and bright smiles. 'People who looked no deeper than the surface would,
say, what a well-matched pair,' thought Philip; 'and no doubt they were
very happy, poor young things, if it would but last.' Here Guy turned,
and asked him a question about the line of perpetual snow, so much in
his own style, that he was almost ready to accuse them of laughing at
him. Next came what hurt him most of all, as they talked over Charles's
letter, and a few words passed about Laura, and the admiration of some
person she had met at Allonby. The whole world was welcome to admire
her: nothing could injure his hold on her heart, and no joke of Charles
could shake his confidence; but it was hard that he should be forced to
hear such things, and ask no questions, for they evidently thought him
occupied with his book, and did not intend him to listen. The next thing
they said, however, obliged him to show that he was attending, for it
was about her being better.

'Who? Laura!' he said, in a tone that, in spite of himself, had a
startled sound. 'You did not say she had been ill?'

'No, she has not,' said Amy. 'Dr. Mayerne said there was nothing really
the matter: but she has been worried and out of spirits late